The Obsolete Protector
by M10m gas mask soldier
Summary: Upon being revived 10 years after being murdered by Sofia, Subject Delta has to fight his way back to his beloved master Eleanor. However, he is not alone. Upon being reunited, the two Alpha Series Big Daddies must get to their captured daughters before it is too late. Meanwhile, Eleanor wishes for Delta to be more than her father. Burial at Sea connections. AU BioShock 2.
1. Chapter 1: Return of Subject Delta

Title: The Obsolete Protector

Origin: Bioshock 2

POV: Subject Delta

Type: AU Bioshock 2

A.N.:

To anyone who takes the time to read this, I want to thank you in advance. This is my first Bioshock fanfic and my seventh story ever. I have been writing for F.E.A.R. for little over a year and I am not that great of a writer. So, I apologize in advance if this is sub-par.

Subject Delta is one of my all-time favorite characters and my favorite Bioshock character. I know most people have probably forgotten about him and the other Big Daddies because of the new timeline introduced in Infinite. So, I do not expect much feedback for this story.

Warning: This timeline is AU. The basic story is still intact but I am introducing a more in-depth backstory for Delta that will be revealed as he travels towards Eleanor.

I am also changing a few things to try to make it more realistic...for Bioshock anyway. Like no Vita-Chambers except the two in this chapter, convenient HUD, or massive amount of weaponry that he can somehow carry around and magically make pop in and out of existence whenever he wants to use them. He is only going to have his drill. He will have access to all the plasmids though. Drill Specialist xD

One last thing, the Delta in my story is still bound by his Protector Instincts. Being an Alpha Series, that does not alter him that much since they retain most of their free will except for when it comes to protecting their bonded sisters.

Speaking of the Alpha Series, I am going to have a deep connection amongst them. This chapter introduces what I mean. Needless to say, the Mass Produced Big Daddies are going to catch a lot of flak in this fic.

Again, this is outside my comfort zone as I have been writing for F.E.A.R. up until now.

So, thank you to whoever takes the time to read this. I appreciate it.

Sorry about using "drug" instead of dragged xD

Also, just for clarification, this first part is the true "present" in the story's timeline. The rest of the story afterwards is Delta remembering everything that had happened during his quest to get to Eleanor.

Disclaimer: Bioshock 2 and related characters are the property of 2K Games. I claim no ownership of Bioshock nor do I plan to profit from posting this.

* * *

Ch.1: Return of Subject Delta

"Wake up Herr Delta. The time for sleeping is over." The thick German accented voice of a woman roused me from my unnaturally deep slumber. Giving off a low rumbling groan, I opened my eyes. Taking in my surrounds, I saw that I was in a Vita-Chamber. The green arcs of electricity danced around my body yet I felt no pain. In the transparent surface of the concavo-convex Vita-Chamber door, I saw the reflection of the being that people called Subject Delta.

The monster that I had become looked back at me with its scratched, golden yellow oval eye that was divided into three sections by two narrow strips of metal. The rivet-covered copper skin of the diving helmet that was my face was dented and gouged in several places. Several of the rivets had been compromised but fortunately not enough to compromise my armored face. The left auxiliary light located below my eye failed to emit any light curtsey of the tip of an enraged Big Sister's needle-like weapon. The camera mounted on top of my head was crushed from when I had been unfortunate enough to enter a dual between another Alpha Series, a Big Sister, and a Rumbler.

The butterfly bolts running uniformly along the perimeter of my face were still intact, which I was grateful for because I could not stomach the idea of the world ever seeing the grotesque remains of the long dead man that I had once been entombed beneath the scarred face of Subject Delta. That man was dead. He had been murdered first by Andrew Ryan and then by Fontaine's butchers. This diving suit clad monster was all that was left of a ghost that had forgotten to die.

The heavy diving weight still hung down from my face by the two coils of rope. The tubes that were my nostrils were still secured to the sides of my face on either side of my eye and to my metal tank-like lungs located on my back. There, between my lungs was the metal tube crafted throne of my master. Unlike the tin men who dared to call themselves Big Daddies, we were designed for the express purpose of being perfect for our bonded masters. We certainly did not allow our precious daughters to walk the disgusting streets of Rapture as if they were common peasants. The once pristine blue canvas and brown leather skin of my body was covered with dried blood as well as scorched in several sections. The tube running down the interior of my heavily muscled left arm glowed with a brilliant blue color. Still attached to my left hip was my trusty non-magnetic brass diving knife.

My fully upgraded industrial grade drill, which was bigger and heavier than a man, remained attached to my right arm covered with dried blood, among other things, and poised to violently eviscerate anything foolish enough to cause my master to send me after it. At a point during my quest to return to my master's side, I had found that the drill's mounts had fused together from a combination of salt water and blood. As a result, my right hand was now permanently entombed beneath the razor sharp hardened steel industrial tool turned weapon of slaughter, forever doomed to grip the drill's controls without reprieve.

My thoughts raced inside my mind. Finally, after my dazed mind reoriented itself, my memories returned. I had died in Eleanor's arms. I remembered Persephone, my failure to get to Eleanor in time, my heart seizing painfully as my broken Pair Bond sought to send my body into a forced shutdown, my poor broken brothers in their decaying suits, Subject Omega, the bombs, and then carrying the weight of the ocean on my shoulders as the lifeboat carried us up towards the surface. A flood of intense cold erupted through me as I realized that something was missing. Eleanor!

In an instant, the golden yellow glow of my eye was replaced by a Hellish red as maddening, burning anger filled my entire being like molten lead. If she had been hurt, there would be Hell to pay! I would chase the culprits responsible to the ends of the Earth and beyond! I would ensure that they would never harm her ever again. The last thought that would go through their minds would be the question of how they could be so stupid to touch the daughter of the Big Daddy that even Big Sisters had learned to fear! "Herr Delta, it is alright. Easy, your body is still in a state of shock. Listen to my voice. It is Dr. Tenenbaum...you remember me...yes? You rescued all those little girls that Lamb had kidnapped...I owe you a debt Delta..."

'_Dr. Tenenbaum? Wait...that is the woman who helped me...friend...no hurt..._'

My ally continued to address me with a soft motherly tone, "Calm down Herr Delta. I have Eleanor here. She is safe." Her attempts to reassure me failed as my mind was too far gone and corrupted by the burning fury of my Protector Instincts. My rage-consumed mind translated her reassurances to have a different meaning entirely.

'_SHE HAS ELEANOR!_'

'_KILL!_'

I let out an ear-shattering guttural roar that would have filled even the strongest Big Sister with fright. Unable to control my actions completely due to my Protector Instincts, I mindlessly lunged forward against the barrier between my baby girl and me. With the sound of twisting metal and cracking glass, my assault succeeded in cracking the glass of the Vita-Chamber's door and causing its metal frame to bow outwards. One more assault would do it. Outside the chamber, I heard Tenenbaum yell, "Sigma! Someone go get Eleanor!"

I tightened the huge muscles in my tree trunk like legs and then threw my entire body against the weakened exit of my prison once again. The Vita-Chamber's door submitted to my assault and flew across the room to smash against the far wall of what looked like a scientific lab of some sort. Though it took me a moment to realize where we were, I finally recognized the room as being the one in Sinclair's Lifeboat where Eleanor had saved her mother, Sofia, like the gentle forgiving spirit that I had always wanted her to be, and then placed her gloved hand on the other side of mine as we neared the surface of the Atlantic Ocean.

Before me in the middle of the room, I saw an alert Tenenbaum stepping back towards the opposite side of the dome-shaped room. She had been through too much in her life to feel any fear, even for an enraged Big Daddy. Her intelligence filled eyes locked onto me as she calmly began to devise a solution for this new problem. Trying to fight against my programming, I stomped towards her, my weighted diving boots shaking the floor beneath us.

As I continued to stomp menacingly towards the aged scientist, suddenly, an Alpha Series with an almost pristine suit, though like me he too had scars of battle, rushed into the room. Though his visor was emitting golden yellow light, my brother moved to stand in front of her. In his grasp, he held a weird looking weapon that I had never personally seen before. However, it looked familiar. After racking my memory, I remembered that it was an Ion Laser. Only the rare prototype Lancer Big Daddies had those. He must have somehow found a way into Minerva's Den. I thought that it had been completely cut off from Rapture. Examining his hands, I saw the stamped symbol for "Sigma".

I gave off a threatening, rumbling roar to warn my brother to step aside as I moved closer to them. However, Subject Sigma remained in front of the scientist and replied with his own threatening call. The fact that he was capable of restraint indicated that he was just as sane as I was. Well, we were saner than our poor broken brothers that lumbered through the partially sunken ruins of Rapture in vain searches for their dead bonded sisters.

My poor brothers, I had known all of them before my demise at the hands of Lamb's splicers. We had all known each other. I had been viewed as the paragon of the Alpha Series. They looked up to me. I taught my brothers how to fight. I taught them when to use brute strength alone to win and when to use their wits to outsmart their opponents. With my leadership, we had become a formidable fighting force. Only our bonded masters could control us. Even gods among men like Andrew Ryan, though he was too proud to ever admit it, were afraid of us.

It had broken my heart to see what they had decayed into: barely sentient psychologically unstable shells that could not even control their own plasmids. The leather skin of their bodies were ripped open in sections to reveal the ADAM ravaged remains of the men that they had once been. Their cracked eyes were blank black stares. Their once formidable tools of our craft malfunctioned in battle due to lack of maintenance. What remained of the once proud Alpha Series were lumbering shells of our former glory.

The city had forgotten us. We were once hailed as the saviors of Rapture as we valiantly protected our bonded partners with our lives so that there was a constant supply of ADAM. We were celebrities in a way. People would sometimes follow us at a safe distance to watch us protect our bonded masters. As Ryan's prisoners, we had been erased from existence, but as Alpha Series Big Daddies, we were the city's favorite sons. Eleanor and I especially drew a lot of admiration. Everyone knew the names Subject Delta and Eleanor. In a way, my beautiful daughter and I became a symbol of hope for the ADAM starved, war weary city. Then, we were heartlessly cast aside in favor of the hulking, monstrous, tin men called the Mass Produced Big Daddies: Bouncers, Rosies, and Lancers though they never left Minerva's Den.

We all despised them! They were a mockery to the title of Big Daddy. They were heartless foul-smelling brutes that did not care about their sisters. Every Little Sister was the same to them! We loved our bonded sisters! We truly wanted to be with them! We treated protecting our sisters as a privilege and honor. The Mass Produced Big Daddies treated protecting their Little Sisters as if it were a chore instead of a privilege! They only protected their sisters because their programming had rendered them will-less. We protected our sisters because they were our daughters.

Every time I killed one of the "superior" Mass Production Big Daddies, I felt no remorse or pity for them. Why would I? They felt nothing for their Little Sisters. They were hollow tin men. I was essentially killing a machine. I felt happiness in hearing their death bellows because I had avenged my fallen brothers once again. WE were the SUPERIOR protectors, NOT the tin men! We fought even with our dying breath. We stood ready to defend our beautiful daughters in that grim, blood covered sunken mausoleum called Rapture at a second's notice. However, despite our near flawless battlefield prowess, in the end, the once mighty Alpha Series decayed into barely sentient monsters; the final victims of the very thing that had made us so valiant and invincible in battle: our Pair Bonds.

As I continued stomping towards the pair, I let out another rumbling roar, but this one was more of a beg than a threat. I did not want to harm my brother. When my brother remained in front of the scientist, I felt a strange feeling of wetness that traveled down the sides of the dead man's face beneath the emotionless metal skin of my real one. It took me a moment to remember that the bizarre sensation was caused by crying. My brother had left me no choice.

I raised my drill and powered up its motor, causing a loud mechanical roar to fill the room. Then, I charged forward into Subject Sigma. My Drill Dash succeeded in disarming him, his Ion Laser flew out of his grasp and clattered onto the floor a good foot away, and sending him tumbling onto the ground. My experienced melee prowess was legendary in the sunken ruins of Rapture. Sigma would be incapacitated for a good minute. I did not want to harm my brother any further so I moved forward towards the woman and left Sigma on the floor.

Seconds later, I was before the scientist. However, as I lifted my drill up above my head with its still razor sharp point aimed downwards, four skinny, gloved hands grabbed my arms up around my shoulders. I let out an enraged roar as I twisted around to get free from my assailants. I caught glimpses of two lithe black and white diving suit armored adolescent girls. Big Sisters! As the ex-Little Sisters fought to restrain me, I saw that their large round eyes were green rather than their usual Hellish red. The observation puzzled me, but did not distract me from my rage-fueled quest to find Eleanor.

I pressed my left hand against my chest and discharged a blast of Electro Bolt 3. The Big Sisters screeched as the blue electric arcs around my body traveled to dance around them as well. However, as I had Electric Flesh spliced, I was unaffected. I swung my drill sideways and bashed the one to my right across the front of her bulbous head. The blow sent the defenseless sister tumbling to the ground while blue electric arcs continued to dance around her lithe form. I turned to face the other sister.

I raised my left hand up and grabbed her by her head. I lifted her up off the ground for a moment before throwing her like a baseball. The skinny adolescent flew towards the far wall, where, upon reaching it, she smashed into a pristine brightly lit Circus of Values vending machine. The impact crumpled in the front of the machine and, to my enjoyment, silenced the annoying voice of the clown. After the Big Sister fell onto the floor in front of the machine, I saw sparks begin to erupt out of the collapsed section of the device.

I turned back to the scientist to find that she was attempting to flee. I grabbed her by the back of her neck with my enormous left hand. '_NO! STOP!_' Despite my attempts to fight against my instincts, I guided her over my shoulder and then threw her onto the floor. She hit her head during the impact with the floor. As she looked up at me with a dazed look in her eyes, I revved up my drill. As the room was filled with the sound of my drill's whirling, I sent the deadly extension of my right arm towards her face.

Suddenly, I heard the sweetest voice I had ever heard cry out, "Father stop!" The command caused me to halt the advance of my drill's spinning point mere inches from the surface of Tenenbaum's left eye. The maddening rage instantly left my mind and I was able to regain control of my body. After powering down my drill and returning it to my right side, I gently assisted the "Mother Goose" as she went to stand up.

As she stood before me, I kneeled and let out a mournful moan of regret. However, to my surprise, she gave me the faintest smile that I had ever seen and then assured me with a gentle tone, "Herr Delta, you have nothing to apologize for. Excuse me, I need to go look over a few things in my notes." She walked past me and towards a worktable to the right of the destroyed Vita-Chamber. I stood back up.

Remembering the voice, I turned my body around to look behind me. There, I was met by the sight of a dozen Big Sisters. I would have normally felt intimidated by the large number of "Lamb's Hand" but the sight of the helmet-less Big Sister standing out in front of the others caused me to let out a happy groan. Eleanor beamed back at me with a huge smile that reminded me of the smile that she gave me when she was a little girl. Her innocent beautiful, pale face was a stark contrast to the disturbingly sharp look in her blue eyes.

As I moved towards her, I gave off a quizzical groan. She smirked before she replied with her accented voice, "Dr. Tenenbaum managed to repair our bond while she was messing around with your genetic sequence. I told you before Father, I will be damned before I let Mother take you away from me again. Plus...you can't tell me that you don't want to rub it in Mother's face that no matter what she does, she cannot keep us apart." I gave off a kind of laugh in the form of repeated grunts. Then, I gave off another quizzical groan.

She pouted before she turned and pulled the nearest Big Sister into a hug. She turned back and looked at me with Bambi eyes while continuing to hug the Big Sister close to her. She said, "They don't have anywhere else to go, Father. Deep down, we are all still Little Sisters. Mother had convinced them that you were going to hurt me. They were just protecting their sister, Father. Please?"

I gave off a defeated groan, causing Eleanor to smile. As I reached her, she released her sister, who returned to where she had been moments prior while giving off strange noises that vaguely sounded like complaints and smoothing the wrinkles in her suit that Eleanor's hug had caused. Then, she threw herself into me. As she wrapped her thin arms around my massive chest, I gently returned the gesture with my free left arm. While we enjoyed our long overdue reunion, I reflected upon the events that had transpired to lead to this moment.

* * *

Awareness suddenly hit me in an agonizing wave of sensation. Eventually, the pain ceased and I was able to concentrate. When I did, I realized that something was wrong. I was floating in a choking black abyss. I tried to move but my limbs failed to respond. Panicking, I attempted to cry out but no sound escaped my numb body. Did I even have a body? For that matter, who was I? As if on cue, my mind's eye was assaulted by a memory.

As I fought against the effects of the Hypnotize Plasmid in my forced kneeling position, I berated myself for allowing a momentary lapse in focus to endanger my precious Eleanor. I should have seen that plasmid coming! I should have just killed that bastard instead of wasting time by trying to bore into him.

I could just imagine the Mass Production Big Daddies enjoying seeing me like this. The mighty Subject Delta, the original Big Daddy, paragon of the Alpha Series, and arguably the strongest Big Daddy in all of Rapture, caught off guard by something as idiotic as the Hypnotize Plasmid? Yes, those tin men would certainly enjoy seeing me like this. No matter, once the effects of the plasmid wore off, I was going to make them all pay for this.

How dare this woman touch Eleanor?! I glared at her with the face of the dead man these people called "Johnny Topside" as I fought against her orders. My real face lay on the ground where I had dropped it. Through the green tint that had covered my vision, I saw the heart wrenching frightened look on my daughter's face. I tried to give off a reassuring grunt but the plasmid's effects prevented me from doing so. There was no way that this woman was Eleanor's real mother. A real mother would never put her daughter through something like this. She was just another deranged splicer that I would put out of its misery once this plasmid wore off.

"Place the pistol against your head." With a shaking right hand, I raised the golden 9x19mm Luger P08 up against my head. '_Come on old man! Fight it! Just resist for a few more moments and the plasmid will wear off._' I could feel the effects of the Hypnotize plasmid wearing off. '_Yes! Just a little bit more!_' However, I suddenly felt an intense feeling of fear wash over me that was so frigid that I felt the urge to vomit as I heard her say the final command in a disturbingly calm tone.

"Fire."

'_No! NO! Eleanor, please look away! Come on lady, have some decency! Don't make her watch this! She's just a child!' _I fought to resist as hard as I could but my trigger finger slowly began to squeeze the trigger. A terrifying realization hit me. This was it. I was really going to die like this. Worse, I was leaving my daughter in the hands of this lunatic. I had failed the only person that loved the monster that people called "Subject Delta". I looked my baby girl in her beautiful glowing eyes as I mentally begged her, "_Eleanor, please forgive Daddy! I love yo..._"

She rushed forward as she screamed, "DADDY!" However, at that very moment, I squeezed the trigger. As the shot rang out, my vision faded into darkness from which there was no escape.

* * *

A bright white flash came over my vision. During the flash, I heard a woman's heavily accented voice as she contacted me through my built in radio, "Hello can you hear me? Your signal is very weak." I opened my eyes to see the two narrow strips of metal that segmented my eye into three sections. Beyond them, I saw the palm of my gloved left hand with its port that allowed me to use Plasmids. Letting out a loud groan, I shifted my weight to look over at my right hand. However, instead of gloved digits with metal fingertips, I found my trusty heavy drill still securely mounted over my hand. '_Eleanor..._' I needed to find her and get her away from that female splicer.

I turned my left hand over and began to push myself up. As I did, I saw my reflection in the puddle that I had been lying in. My glowing, golden yellow eye and two auxiliary lights shined brightly. My riveted copper face was pristine and shiny. As I continued to rise to my feet, I noticed my tube like nostrils and metal lungs. Though the room I was in was dark, I also noticed how clean the blue canvas and brown leather skin of my body looked. I had to admit that I looked pretty good for a dead man.

Having pushed my huge bulk up enough, I dragged my weighted diving boot entombed left foot forward until I was able to reach a kneeling position. From there, I was able to stand fully upright. The drawback to my ADAM-enhanced Big Daddy physique was that the simple task of standing turned into a complicated process. The sight of the room that I was in could only be described as alien.

Aside from the round concrete pedestal in the center of the room with decorative plants and a metal globe with the blue colored words "ADONIS" and below that, "LUXURY RESORTS" located inside of it, the entire bottom floor of the room was flooded. Beneath my feet, the checkerboard patterned dark and light blue tiles with gold trim were covered with garbage. Against the far wall where the two staircases that allowed access to the upper floor met, I saw the white colored handwritten phrase, "FALLEN, FALLEN IS BABYLON".

The left staircase was collapsed and water was pouring down from the ceiling in the far corner. Meanwhile, the right staircase was encrusted with pink coral. The groaning of metal filled the air as if the roof would collapse at any second. The cry of some creature occasionally interrupted the groaning. If the sight was not glaring me straight in the face, I would have never believed that this place could look like this. This was Adonis? This place was high end and catered only to the richest citizens of Rapture! What happen to this place? How long had I been dead?

Moving forward, I entered the pool of water. I growled slightly as the icy sting of the Atlantic Ocean penetrated the canvas hide of my legs. Not wanting to remain in the frigid water for very long, I slogged my way towards the relatively dry landing of the staircase. As I reached the decorative pedestal in the center of the room, I paused as I heard a soft voice. It was a little girl. Moreover, I heard the strange edge in her voice that could only mean one thing: she was a Little Sister.

I failed to detect any telltale calls of a protector. She was alone? In a place like this? Concerned for her welfare in this icebox of a place, I moved faster towards the landing. I barely noticed the water flowing down the steps to feed the rising water of the bottom floor or the collage of people's photographs located on the wall below the "Babylon" message like some kind of memorial. Turning right, I trudged up the stairs past the pieces pink coral that I noticed seemed to have some kind of bioluminescence as they emitted pink light onto the stairs.

As I turned right once again, I saw a decorative Little Sister vent that had the strange design that reminded me of the sunflowers from the surface. A more intense feeling of concern filled me as I saw the water flowing down from the ceiling in front of the vent. Pushing my heavy frame as fast as I could move without falling forward onto my face, I rushed towards the vent.

Upon nearing it, my worst fears were confirmed when I saw the pair of glowing eyes appear just beyond the entrance to the vent. I gave off a reassuring groan to try to tell her not to be afraid. However, to my confusion, she retreated away from me and down into the vent network. The water flowing down from the ceiling caused an annoying echo inside my armored head as I passed through it. The lone sister was likely long gone through the vent network. I could only pray that she would come out through one somewhere warm and safe.

I went to turn and travel up the next flight of stairs. That is, until I caught the all too familiar scent in the air. My blood ran cold and I stopped dead in my tracks. That smell that came from that Little Sister sent a primal wave of fear through me. Eleanor! That was Eleanor's pheromone signature!

I gave off a guttural roar as I returned to the vent. I balled my gauntlet-encased left hand into a fist and then pounded against the vent's surface three times. My blows caused the thin metal surface to hum softly after giving off a hollow thud. I returned my left hand back down to my side and then waited. I ignored the frigid water flowing down my back as I continued to wait. When there was no response, I panicked. Eleanor! Why did she flee from me? Maybe I could run into her at another vent.

I turned and rushed up the stairs to my right. Upon seeing the coral blocking the way out, I thrust my drill into the pink masses of calcium. After three thrusts, I had succeeded in clearing the doorway. The hallway beyond was in even worse shape than the room I had just left. Water poured into the low-ceiling passageway and an algae covered column had collapsed conveniently right where I needed to pass through in order to get to the open doorway on the far side of the hallway.

Luckily, I was just barely able to squeeze underneath the collapsed, fragmented column and I continued towards the exit. As I stood back upright, I saw the shadow of a little girl running away in the white light that was coming from the room beyond the open exit. Moving as fast as I could towards the open doorway, I let out a mournful cry as I begged her to stop. The scent in the air confirmed that it was my sweet little Eleanor. Why did she run? Had I done something wrong? Then, it hit me: she must have still been angry with me for failing her.

Still, why would she not stop for me? She must have been absolutely frozen from running around in this flooding resort. I had to get her somewhere warm! Granted, as a Little Sister, she was actually not aware of most physical sensations except for when she was gathering or when her innocent mind was suddenly ripped from the "Happy Place" and thrust into this dangerous reality. However, just because she was not aware of how cold she was, that was no excuse for me to skirt my responsibilities of being her father.

As I neared the light filled open exit, I heard an unusual noise. I had never heard anything like it. It was like the screech of some kind of animal that also had a mechanical quality to it. That was impossible. This was Rapture! There were no animals here other than family pets. With my drill poised at the ready, I went through the opening.

The room beyond was a large pool area. However, I barely noticed that as I was immediately drawn to the lithe creature near the top of the nearest left art deco column. It looked human, but as it screeched at me while boring into me with the large round Hellish red eye in the center of its bulbous head, I knew that whatever this bizarre creature was, it would be wise for me not to take a confrontation with it lightly.

As I watched, the creature jumped clear to the other side of the pool to the third column in the row of four. I heard a loud cracking noise beneath the sound of its continued screech. It jumped from the column but I lost sight of it as a large section the art deco structure that it had previously occupied fell free from the rest of the structure and impacted the surface of the deep end of the empty pool with a loud crash. Whatever that thing was, I did not want to stick around in case it changed its mind about fighting. The fact that it clearly had no fear of me, a Big Daddy, was enough to rattle me slightly.

At the far end of the enormous room, I saw the only other source of light in this place other than the natural light that was lazily entering the room through the three large windows in the ceiling above the pool and the occasional sparks emitting from the large generator in the far left corner of the room. It was a neon advertisement sign. Glowing with a light purple color, the advertisement was two words. In a fancy, cursive font, the top word was "Plasmid". Below it, in a plain but bold font, was the word, "THERAPIES".

Plasmids huh? If that thing came back, having a Plasmid or two would definitely help. I moved towards the far end of the room. My heavy footfalls echoed through the cavernous space as my weighted boots collided with the tiled surface of the path around the pool. As I neared the far right corner, I noticed a little can of fuel amongst what looked like some splicer's nest.

Handouts in Rapture were hard to come by so I grabbed the little can with my left hand and dumped what little fuel there was inside it into my drill's fuel reservoir. The hunchbacked Bouncers had a nearly endless supply of fuel for their drills thanks to the enormous tank on their back next to their oxygen tank. Unfortunately, my sleek design made such a large fuel tank impractical so I had a much smaller reservoir. Just as well, those Bouncers were more of a joke than anything else as they lumbered around looking like giant bloated fat men in their modified Carmagnolle atmospheric diving suits. One time as a prank, Eleanor and I had sneaked up behind one and pushed him over. We called it "Bouncer Tipping".

Having emptied the little yellow fuel tank, I tossed it aside and continued towards the Plasmid Therapies area to see if there was some plasmids that were still left. As I neared the door, I heard a woman's voice. She seemed to be yelling at someone as she said, "I need this! Do you hear me?" A single thought went through my head, '_Splicer_.' With my drill ready, I traveled through the empty door frame.

At the bottom of the stairs before me, the path became a "T". Against the far wall, I saw a grime covered statue of what I could only guess was an angel. As I reached the top of the stairs, a can of what appeared to be peaches slowly rolled across the once shiny tiled floor from the left path. Unafraid, I casually descended the stairs.

Upon reaching the bottom, I heard the same woman cry out. Turning my whole body, I looked down the left path to find another open door. Seconds later, a horribly disfigured woman with a lead pipe in her right hand retreated out of the room beyond. Despite her appearance, I was unaffected and felt nothing except the barest traces of sympathy for this poor individual. I had seen worse at Fontaine Futuristics. The lumpy, sore-covered, pasty skin was what ADAM did to a human being. There was no way around it. Once someone had been exposed to ADAM, there was no going back. There was no such thing as a "recreational user" when it came to the corrupting green slime like substance that had become the single most valuable commodity in Rapture. Everyone wanted it and everyone needed it.

I prepared to dispatch the oblivious "Thuggish" Splicer but before I could act, small caliber arms fire rang out. The woman cried out as several bullets stuck her from behind. The unarmored splicer's body jerked with each eruption of blood and bone fragments. Dying before she even hit the floor, she fell forward. As her corpse laid there in an unceremonious heap, her killer appeared.

The man had been a doctor according to the torn yellowed surgeon's jacket, doctor's mask, and the small flashlight secured in the center of his forehead by a strap. However, I noticed the weathered revolver in his right hand before I noticed his attire. The "Leadhead" splicer turned and looked at me. He raised his revolver at me, but before he could use it, I had rushed forward and thrust my drill into the weapon.

Sparks flew as my blow caused the revolver to fly out of the splicer's hand. The weapon clattered against the ground over by a Little Sister vent. Before he could react, I swung my drill sideways and bashed him in the side of his skull. The sound of cracking bone filled the air as he tumbled through the air with a trail of blood following him. With a sickening thud, he landed headfirst into the opposite side of the open doorway hard enough to dislodge small bits of the concrete structure. I moved over to him and towered over the broken splicer.

The side of his skull was cracked open and I could see the disgusting jelly-looking remains of what had once been his brain through the jagged edges of his wound. The splicer moaned as he lifted his head up to look at me. The ADAM in their system made outright killing the only solution for an attacking splicer. The deranged former doctor cried out, "Nurse! Where is that damn nurse?" I powered up my drill and then thrust its whirling tip into the splicer's face. Seconds later, it was all over.

I ripped my drill from the remains of the splicer's head and then entered the therapy clinic. As I did, my attention was drawn to the Gather's Garden vending machine against the far back wall as the imitation of a little girl announced, "My daddy's SMARTER than Einstein, STRONGER than Hercules and lights a fire with a SNAP of his fingers. Are you as good as my daddy, Mister? Not if you don't visit the Gatherer's Garden, you aren't! Smart daddies get spliced, at the Gardens!"

As I moved towards the machine, I noticed that there was a glowing red plasmid vial with a red bow tied around it. Puzzled, I entered the back area where the machine was located. As I crossed the threshold, a warm sensation of joy and peace suddenly erupted inside my mind. My vision was consumed by a bright white light that had a pink border. As the feeling of surreal bliss continued, a young woman's face appeared in the center of the bright light.

Despite the happiness that I felt, my instincts kept me wary of this woman and what she was doing to me. Moments later however, she silenced my concerns as she spoke to me with the most beautiful, will-dissolving voice that I had ever heard, "Father." Shortly afterwards, the woman, the light, and the feeling of bliss left me and I was once again alone in the cold, dark room with the Gather's Garden.

I twisted around in confusion but failed to detect any concealed individuals or any other means of causing what I had just experienced. Who was that woman? I was certain that I had never met someone that looked like her. She called me "Father" too. She was either completely out of her mind, confusing me with someone else, or, perhaps most unsettling, she really was my daughter. The latter was impossible. In my former life, I could vaguely recall having a family of some kind. Whether it was direct family or a created one, I did not know.

It was extremely unlikely that any true members of my former life's family had tracked me down to this place at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. As much as I wanted to dismiss the encounter as just a Splicer that had learned a new trick, I could not. Her voice resonated inside me in a way that only one other individual's did. However, that meant that the latter had actually been true. The reality of the situation hit me and I let out an agonized wail that vibrated the air inside the damp, dark, crypt-like clinic.

That woman was my Eleanor! My little girl had been forced to grow up in this sunken dead city without me. That meant that I had been dead for ten years at least. I faced the gut wrenching fact that everything that I had once held dear had likely long since been killed, vandalized, and left to rot somewhere in these sunken hallways. What cruelty was this? Was this some kind of sick revenge by some unknown party? Why was I back? Why?

My agonized thoughts ceased when I noticed that the plasmid vial appeared to be a gift. Behind the vending machine on the wall was a crayon drawing of the sun. Beside it, I saw the crayon created message, "FROM ELEANOR". I was stunned by the message. Eleanor had left this for me?

A wave of renewed purpose filled me. Eleanor had left this for me so she must have needed me. That splicer that had taken her from me while also forcing me to kill myself must have been endangering her. '_NO! NO! WAKE UP YOU WORTHLESS OLD MAN! YOUR JOB IS NOT DONE SOLDIER!_' The room was briefly illuminated with red light as I felt my dormant Protector Instincts activate and temporarily change the light that was emitted from my eye to Hellish red.

I laughed with repeated grunts as I let the sensation fill my mind. Whatever the reasons for this strange turn of events and whatever lay before me, one thing was certain: Subject Delta was back! As the sensation continued, I let out louder laugh-like grunts that echoed through out the sunken halls of the resort. Someone had tried to give me complete free will, I could feel that in my head. However, I did not want it.

I was an Alpha Series Big Daddy! The Protector Instincts provided by the Pair Bond gave me the edge in combat that I needed to protect my Eleanor! She was the most important thing in the world! I was nothing! The loss of my complete free will was a small price to pay to ensure that she was safe! I was going to tear this city apart to find her! I was going to show these broken denizens what happened when someone had the audacity to separate me from my daughter!

Eventually, the corrupting sensation died down in my mind but I could still feel it there like a presence inside me that refused to leave. Of course, I did not want it to leave. Why would I want it to leave? It felt so wonderful. I reached forward and picked up the vial of Electro Bolt with my gloved left hand. Realizing what had to be done and that it was presently impossible unless I did something that I would normally consider out of the question, I grunted in annoyance before I rendered myself defenseless by detaching my drill from my right arm.

I knew the agony that I was about to endure. I had already experienced it once before the first time that Fontaine's butchers injected me with the first prototype plasmid that they had picked me to be the first test subject. I used a hypodermic needle to extract some of the red liquid from the vial. With the needle in my right hand, I dropped the vial and prepared myself. Then, I plunged the hollow needlepoint into the port on my left arm. Steeling myself, I pressed the plunger on the back of the needle down and injected the plasmid into my body.

Instantly, I cried out in agony as blue electric bolts began to erupt out of my palms. Continuing to groan loudly in pure misery, I twisted around to face the entrance to the therapy clinic. I lifted my hands up towards my face as it felt like my body was going to explode. Any normal person or even a splicer would have blacked out from the onslaught of pain. Finally, giving off one final cry, I collapsed onto the dirty tiled floor.

My senses began to recover after a moment. Unfortunately, before I was able to recover completely, I saw a shadow creep towards me. A splicer! I used my arms to push my torso up so I could look at my assailant. My concern proved to be incorrect, however, as I was met by the sight of a blue and white dressed Little Sister. Because my vision was still distorted, I was unable to make out any significant features other than her glowing yellow eyes.

She addressed me with her almost robotic sounding voice, "Daddy was sleeping...for such a long time...and Eleanor has missed you..." My vision cleared and I was able to see her dirty brown hair that was tied up in the back by a white bow, pale almost green skin, the dark rings around her eyes, the dried blood on her dress, and the little Big Daddy doll in her arms. This poor Little Sister was a stark contrast to the clean, beloved ones that my brothers and I had protected. It pulled at my heart to see a Little Sister like this. Little Sisters were precious little angels that were to be cherished, not treated like garbage.

The neglected little girl moved closer until she was inches from my copper face. She finished, "...find her and you will be all better." This close, I felt like I was drowning in the smell of pheromones that she gave off. Her signature was nearly identical to Eleanor's. That was unusual. The likelihood of that happening by sheer happenstance was nearly zero. Perhaps, I would unravel that little mystery as I sought out my own, now grown, Little Sister. In the meantime, this little one needed an escort to the nearest dry section of the resort. I still could not believe that this little one was out on her own. This was typical Mass Production Big Daddy laziness and/or carelessness. What, did her protector get distracted by something shiny?

I went to stand but seemingly from out of thin air, the skinny bizarre creature from before rushed past me from behind and snatched up the Little Sister. The frightened child gave off a high-pitched scream before crying out, "DADDY!" I let out a furious guttural roar as my Protector Instincts flared inside my mind once again. Within seconds, I was upright with my drill once again mounted to my right arm. With the new addition of electric arcs dancing around my left hand, I charged after the foolish creature that dared to upset a Little Sister in front of me.


	2. Chapter 2: Lamb's Hand

Ch. 2: Lamb's Hand

A.N.:

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read my first chapter. I know that this story is not near as good as the other stories with Delta but I am too attached to my characters to leave them to rot.

As I said in my previous note, this is in an alternate universe of the second game. As such, certain characters, Eleanor and Delta for example, have slightly different backstories that I will be revealing as I progress. In addition, certain forced events will not be happening in my story. Still, the general tragedy-filled story will be intact.

So, my Delta lived...sue me, I don't like killing characters. It makes me feel sad on the inside and stuff. If it makes you feel better, he will be getting the shit knocked out of him and there will be plenty of heartbreak, angst, and shit during his quest.

This Delta is my take on his "good" personality so my bad if anyone got the impression that this is his "evil" personality in the first chapter.

As AU, I am not straight ripping the story straight from the game. He has no HUD so the healing and EVE systems are autonomous in my story. The hacking system will be different too for the sake of realism.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story with its insanely long chapters. I appreciate it.

As I say in my other stories,

Read and review if you want.

* * *

As I gave chase, I noticed the EVE Dispenser over on the right wall. I would need full EVE reserves in a confrontation with that thing. I made my way over to it. Though I had to wait a few moments between each dispense, I knew that it was worth the wait. The EVE tube on the interior of my arm was not pressurized so I was easily able to refill my reserve. Finally, after topping off my EVE Tank on my back, I went over to the exit.

The creature had forced the watertight bulkhead to seal shut, but, focusing, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into the shorted out door release lever on the left side of the bulkhead. The blast succeeded in forcing the watertight obstacle to open. Rushing through the opening, I called out for the Little One with a long, low grunt that would reverberate through the decrepit resort. If she was still alive, she would hear me. My calls may not be the ones of those tin men, but this particular Little Sister seemed to respond to me as if I was. I feared the worst when I did not receive a response. Even worse, I failed to catch even the barest trace of her scent in the air.

After investigating the steam room on the other side of the hall to make sure that horrible creature did not lock the child inside the still functional sweatbox, I returned to the pool area. The voices that I heard as I climbed the stairs warned me of two new Splicer arrivals. I did not have time for this! That Little One needed me! Rage flared inside of me. I was not going to fail again! I did not care what or who got in my way, I would kill them all! No one touched a Little One on my watch! It was time to reestablish my reputation as a Master Protector.

Before me, what remained of one of Ryan's thugs was peering over the side of the diving board with his back to me. Stomping towards him in large strides, I was within striking distance in less than five seconds. Before he could turn, I swung my drill as hard as I could into the back of his head. The sharp point of my repurposed industrial tool easily penetrated the Splicer's skull as the wet sound of popping and cracking filled the damp air.

Hearing another Splicer coming towards me from behind, I quickly turned around. With the lifeless body of the first Splicer still on the end of my drill, I slung my right arm as I took aim at the charging disfigured woman. The dead body flew off my drill and into the woman. As the two collapsed into a heap, I rushed forward and finished off the woman by crushing her skull beneath my heavy right foot.

With the locals out of my way, I focused back on finding the kidnapped child. As I looked around the dark room, I noticed that the only other way out was through a sealed door. Observing the power cables, I turned my body to face the dormant generator. It reminded me of one of the diesel/electric engines of the _Balao-class _submarines in the United States Navy with its exposed shafts. It looked intact upon a quick visual inspection. Maintaining a safe distance in case Rapture decided to give me the finger, I fired a blast of Electro Bolt into its exposed electric panel.

Giving off black smoke and shooting electric arcs, the generator thundered to life. Like an awakening ghost, the room's lights powered on and the metal shades against the wall next to the generator began to raise up to reveal the ocean floor beyond. I saw a Bouncer Big Daddy making his way across the ocean floor and was tempted to taunt him from the window but I froze as I heard the voice filling the room.

It was a woman's voice and she was singing. However, I could not have cared less about the voice. It was the song that struck a chord inside me. "My lovin' daddy left his baby again. Said he would be back but forgot to say when." As if I was in a trance, I could not move as the song filled my head. "...home isn't home when you're not there. No need to knock, the door is open for you. Please, Daddy."

A memory played inside my head as I continued to listen to the song. It was Eleanor. We were outside that fancy restaurant named Kashmir Restaurant. She was standing next to her recently harvested "angel", a well-dressed middle-aged businessman that must have ended up biting off more than he could chew with a rival as the multiple stab marks looked like rage-induced haphazard wounds instead of methodical attacks. This poor individual had been recently murdered as evident by the fact that he was still warm and had not been removed, which was why we had been able to reach him before the street sweepers did. She raised her head and closed her eyes as she smiled with her trademark goofy expression.

As I kept an eye out for incoming Splicers, she began to sway as she listened to the music playing from inside the establishment. Before I could stop her, she suddenly darted through the main entrance under the bright purple sign advertising the place's name. Giving off a grunt in alarm, I hurried after her. I ignored the shocked, well-dressed patrons and even knocked a few inebriated ones over when they failed to move fast enough. The rich, elite citizens glanced at me with a mixture of revulsion and fear, which I slightly enjoyed.

As I made my way across the upper floor, I noticed a group of recognizable social giants in one of the booths to my right. It was the big man himself, Andrew Ryan, and a little party of his inner circle: his friend Bill McDonagh, his Head of Security Sullivan, his puppy Diane McClintock, and another woman but I did not recognize her though she was probably McDonagh's wife. Part of me, the remnant of the erased man from the surface, wanted to rush over to them and send my drill's whirling bit into Ryan's face for all of Rapture's elite to watch. However, I did not care about any of that anymore. There was only one thing that I cared about now.

Looking away from the group, I continued my search for my Eleanor. Luckily, I soon found her in the center of the little dance area in the far left corner of the upper floor. Her clean white dress was wrinkled from where she had been dancing. Her clean, matching white shoes sat side-by-side in the near left corner of the dance floor as they hurt her feet too much to dance in. As I approached, she turned to look at me. I let out a concerned groan when I saw the hurt expression on her marble-like face. She sniffled as she pointed back behind her towards the frightened and disgusted men that were supposed to be playing the music with her free left index finger.

As I reached the edge of the dance area, she finally managed to say with her still noticeably British accented voice, "Daddy, they stopped playing the music. I asked politely like a good girl but they still will not play the music. I want the pretty music again." When I reached her, she threw her tiny frame around my massive right leg. She started sobbing as she buried her face into the blue canvas skin of my upper thigh.

I tried not to spoil her but we had been gathering nonstop, except for a few catnaps on Eleanor's part from exhaustion, for three days due to a sudden spike in the demand for Plasmids and Gene Tonics thanks to circulating rumors that there was about to be an ADAM shortage. Rumors my ass, Fontaine was using one of the oldest tricks in the book to line his pockets with even more money. If my baby girl wanted some music to dance and relax after the grind that we had been putting in so that these people got their precious ADAM, then my baby girl was going to get music.

I looked at the men who had dared to upset my Eleanor and began to emit a rumbling groan. The men looked at each other and then back at us. When they did not act as if they were about to grant my baby girl's request, I was about to resort to reviving my drill but suddenly a female voice said, "You men should be ashamed of yourselves." I twisted to the right to see a young woman, that I vaguely recalled having the first name of Anna and was an artist of sorts, walking towards us.

When she reached us, she pointed down at a still crying Eleanor with her left index finger and asked with an accusing tone, "How can you sit there and upset a child?" Turning towards us, Anna asked with a sweet tone, "Excuse me, sweetie..." Eleanor looked up at her with ADAM tears running down her cheeks. She continued, "...are you Eleanor?" I did not like having someone so close to my charge but she had stopped crying so, for that moment, I restrained myself.

Eleanor nodded as she continued to suffer from sporadic crying fits. The woman smiled and then asked, "Would you like to sing something with me?" The entire restaurant suddenly got quiet. Wiping her tears away with the side of her left hand, my daughter nodded in response. I cringed slightly.

The drawback to being prototypes was that both of us had traits that our more refined, mass produced counterparts did not. In Eleanor's case, like me, she retained a larger amount of humanity than what her appearance would suggest. Unlike her sisters, she had a sense of who she had been. She would tinker with machines, ask me about the surface, and asked me to help her find someone named Amir. Sometimes, to my dread, she would ask me if "Mommy" was back yet.

I could tell that she did not have complete memories of who she was though. For example, when I asked her why she tinkered with machines, she replied that she was not sure and that it just felt like a strange urge that she did not understand. Having known her before both of us had been turned into what we were now, I knew why. I wanted to tell her, and, a few times, I had tried to tell her. However, her Little Sister brainwashing prevented her from understanding when I did try to tell her about who she had been.

Unlike the other Little Sisters, who only acknowledged other people's existence when they were either unfortunate or foolish enough to get too close, Eleanor would actively engage with others as we passed them in streets. Of course, that made my job much more difficult, both physically and mentally, as people sometimes got the impression that they could interact with Eleanor. I did not enjoy hurting people like that. They meant well, and I knew it. However, my Protector Instincts dictated that I had to take action.

The woman motioned for Eleanor to follow her up to the microphone. I let out a grunt, but Eleanor assured me, "I'll be okay Daddy. Besides, you're right here." Despite how uneasy as I was, the look on her face was too happy for me to stop her. As strong as I was, I had a huge Achilles's Heel: Eleanor. I would do anything for her if it made her happy.

I stayed alert for any signs of trouble as the two made their way up to the microphone. When they got there, Anna asked Eleanor, "What song would you like to sing, Eleanor?"

My baby girl thought for a moment before she replied enthusiastically, "Daddy's song!" Anna smiled despite the confusion in her eyes. Eleanor giggled before she motioned for the woman to come closer. Anna bent down and my daughter whispered something into her left ear. I saw her smile and then lean back up.

She turned to the men behind them and said, "Annette Hanshaw...Daddy won't you please come home?"

The men looked at each other again, but this time, the lead said, "Let's just do it so the metal daddy doesn't come after us." The others nodded and they began to gather the necessary instruments. I noticed a crowd beginning to gather. I raised my drill as I let out a threatening call. They retreated a little bit. Meanwhile, Anna had lowered the microphone on the stand a little bit and given Eleanor a microphone to hold in her free left hand.

When the musicians were set, the woman motioned for them to start. Moments later, the euphoric beat of old ragtime began to fill the restaurant. After the brief instrumental beginning, the woman began by singing, "When night is creepin', and I should be sleepin' in bed."

To my surprise, Eleanor took over and sang with her lovely voice, "If you were peepin', you'd find that I'm weepin' instead."

Anna smiled at her little partner before she sang, "My lovin' daddy left his baby again."

Eleanor giggled before she sang, "Said he'd come back, but he forgot to say when."

Anna sang, "Night after night...I'm cryin'."

As more and more people began to gather to listen, I moved up to stand closer to my daughter in case they tried something. Meanwhile, both of them sang, "Daddy, won't you please come home? Daddy, won't you please come home? I'm so lonesome."

I noticed Ryan looking up towards us with a look of mild interest on his weathered face. Anna sang, "No one can fill that vacant chair."

Eleanor took over by singing, "Home isn't home when you're not there."

Looking down at her little partner, the woman sang, "No need to knock, the door is open for you."

Looking back up at her, Eleanor sang, "Please daddy, even the clock keeps tickin'."

As much as I was glad that my sweet little Eleanor was enjoying herself, I was growing uneasy with how much attention we were attracting. For the most part, the people that were gathering around seemed to be more interested in just witnessing this bizarre spectacle than getting the ADAM that was inside my daughter's belly and needle. However, I knew that it was only a matter of time before we would have a problem.

Both of them sang, "Daddy, won't you please come home? Daddy, do you have to roam so very long?"

Anna took over by singing, "There's lots of other new sheiks who would like to be sheik-in'."

Eleanor sang, "Haven't slipped yet, but I'm liable to weaken."

Then, they both sang, "Daddy, daddy won't you please come home?"

The musicians took over for moment. Meanwhile, I was scanning the crowd for the telltale sign of ADAM withdraw in their eyes. ADAM withdraw was brutal, I knew that personally from the few times that we had come up empty when we were out searching for "angels". The precious little that we did find I told Eleanor to take so that she would not suffer from hunger.

Unfortunately, that left me without any for myself. The shaking, the painful body spasms, and the voices in your head were enough to break all but the strongest of individuals. Even as a Big Daddy, it would leave me severely weakened during the next search. Of course, I hid it so that Eleanor would not worry or feel bad for not finding any. She was a child, my child, so I did my best to shield her from the reality of our lives.

There was nothing more dangerous than a Splicer having an ADAM withdraw. One moment, they were perfectly normal people. The next, they were screaming homicidal maniacs.

The two singers continued when Anna sang, "Please daddy, even the clock keeps tickin'."

Eleanor took over, "Daddy, won't you please come home? Daddy, do you have to roam so very long? There's lots of other new sheiks who would like to be sheik-in'."

Anna sang, "Haven't slipped yet, but I'm liable to weaken."

Eleanor finished with a slow, angelic voice, "Daddy, daddy won't you please come home?"

As the music died down, Anna added, "That's all." The crowd around the dance area clapped and cheered for their performance, though they could have been trying to stay on my good side. I heard Eleanor politely thank the woman, who returned it with an equally polite statement.

Seconds later, I felt her small left hand grasp mine. I glanced down to see a drowsy look on her face. She said, "I'm ready for dreamtime, Daddy." I grunted in acknowledgement and then kneeled to allow her to get on her throne. She giggled tiredly as she climbed up.

She informed me when she was up by lightly tapping the top of my head. I stood and began to make my way out of the restaurant. The crowd parted to allow us to pass but just to be safe, I held my drill at the ready. Luckily, they had enough sense still left in their heads not to try anything. As I passed Ryan and his little party, I let out a low threatening growl. When I had walked a few steps away, I heard Ryan comment, "Slave."

I paused. The restaurant grew quiet once again. Without turning to face the man, I gave off a groan. From where she was riding on my back, Eleanor chirped, "Daddy says that everyone is a slave because civilization is based on a mutual agreement amongst a group of self-interested individuals in the interest of mutual protection from each other. He says that individuals have since become slaves to the systems of protection because they know that they are better off with them than without them."

There were some approving murmurings from the patrons of the restaurant. However, Ryan quieted them by asking, "You dare to bastardize Thomas Hobbes's philosophy? Tell me Delta, what makes you, a slave without a face, think that you are fit to judge the rest of us? Why...you are merely the bodyguard of that...thing...on your back...a servant...a slave to her every whim."

I let out a laugh in the form of a series of grunts before I replied with a groan. Eleanor translated, "Daddy says not to mess up your monkey suit by getting your tail feathers ruffled over little ol' him. He says to enjoy your evening because a war is coming. He also says that you, Mr. Ryan, are going to have to watch your city being strangled by "The Great Chain" because there is nothing that you can do to stop it now." I let out a quick groan. Eleanor finished, "Oh, and that Sofia Lamb and Frank Fontaine send their regards."

With that, I slowly stomped out of the restaurant. My memory ended. Given the devastation of the resort, I would not be surprised if I had been right and that war had come to Rapture. My radio activated and the woman's voice from before said, "Ah-at last, a signal. You, who are bringing this dead city to life, listen. My name, it is Tenenbaum. I know who you are...and I am in much need of your help. Please-find me in the Atlantic Express Train Station."

I recognized the name. Tenenbaum had been the one who discovered ADAM in those sea slugs. I had heard that she had gone crazy with guilt for what she had done to the little girls that had been turned into Little Sisters. Several of my brothers had been put in solitary confinement after she had turned their bonded daughters back into regular little girls. Luckily, most of us, including Eleanor and I, had been out gathering when the incident took place.

Despite what she had done to my brothers, allies in Rapture were scarce so I needed to play along for the time being. She claimed to know me so maybe she knew where I could find Eleanor. It was likely a trap, but I had no choice, especially now that I had no knowledge of what shape the rest of the city was in or where Eleanor was. If I was fortunate enough, Tenenbaum would not betray me and even send me in the right direction to find my daughter.

Leaving the pool area through the now accessible security door, I began to make my way through the resort. I had to find the kidnapped Little Sister and get her away from that creature before any harm could come to her. Moving forward, I noticed a Rosie Big Daddy at the far end of the hallway just beyond a leaking window. The water that was leaking through the compromised seam trickled down the stairs beneath my feet. It was not a large leak, but, given the pressure of the ocean, it was not going to be long before the entire seam would submit to the waters of the Atlantic.

Seeing the blue neon sign "Dames", I decided to investigate. My quick search resulted in a medkit, which I applied to myself; the excess red healing liquid went into the other storage tank on my back, and around fifty dollars. After placing the money in the special hollow compartment located along my weighted diving belt, I began to leave the bathroom area. However, as I passed through the flooded area between the bathroom stalls and the lockers, I heard another Splicer approaching.

With my drill at the ready, I made my way to confront the deranged denizen. Upon turned right to towards the entrance to the side area, I saw a disfigured woman with a red pipe wrench in her right hand walking towards me. She cried out as she saw me. Before she could act, I electrocuted her with a blast of Electro Bolt and then followed up with a blow to the head with the point of my drill. The old combo resulted in the woman crumpling to the ground in a heap. Knowing better than to assume that she was no longer a threat, I made sure that she was dead by crushing in her skull with my left foot.

After exiting the side area, I made my way towards the Rosie Big Daddy. However, the Rivet Gun wielding brute was already gone and the seam had been repaired. I actually felt sorry for the Rosies. My brothers and I had been purposely-built protectors but the Rosies, and, to a lesser extent, the Bouncers had the extra burden of keeping Rapture maintained.

The Bouncers were a joke in both roles but the Rosies were just as proficient with using their Rivet Guns on leaking seams as they were with using them on attacking Splicers. If it ever came to a straight-up confrontation, I would have to be wary of the Rosies' tactical prowess and their powerful Rivet Guns.

Turning left, I made my way towards the next security gate. As the gate raised, I saw two more Splicers searching through the large pool of water that dominated the majority of the visible room. Above them, I saw a kind of bridge that ran from one side of the room to the other. One of them was a woman dressed in tattered aristocratic attire, who was complaining about not having had the taste of ADAM in weeks, and the other was a man dressed in tattered medical doctor attire.

I mentally sighed. They made it too easy sometimes. Before they knew that I was there, I electrocuted the pool of water with a blast of Electro Bolt. As they howled in agony with blue electric arcs dancing around their bodies, I cried out with a long grunt as I felt my EVE system replenishing the EVE in my body with some from my reserve tank. It did not hurt exactly since it was an intravenous connection; it just felt unnatural for those first few moments because I could feel the cold substance circulate through my body along with my warm blood.

No sooner had the Splicers collapsed and begin to float on the surface of the water before the public service announcement loudspeakers activated. As I listened, the voice of the Splicer that had taken Eleanor from me and made me kill myself announced, "Attention! This is Dr. Sofia Lamb with a message for the people. Remember, you are not alone. Think of me not as leader, but as mother to the Rapture Family."

I mentally cursed. That was Sofia Lamb? She had been the one that had kidnapped Eleanor? I had never met her in person before she made me kill myself so I had no way of knowing that that had been her. I had been wrong. She really was her mother. Regardless, she had no right to traumatize my daughter like she had done. The woman was clearly out of her mind. Worse, she was so delusional that she did not realize how crazy she actually was. I had to get Eleanor away from her.

Moving along the left path, I hurried to other end of the room with renewed urgency. I hardly paid any attention to the advertisement of a couple with the words, "Health and Happiness through Genetics" on its faded surface. Upon reaching the advertisement, I heard the sound of repetitive thudding. Turning my body to the right, I saw a dead Rosie Big Daddy slumped against the wall. The security gate before it seemed unable to close for some reason.

Upon reaching it, I found the Rosie's Rivet Gun at the bottom of the doorframe. When the gate tried to close, it hit the Rivet Gun in a shower of sparks. As the gate rose back up, I quickly grabbed the tool by its muzzle with my gloved left hand and removed it from the doorframe.

As I held the tool in my hand, I examined it briefly. A few of my brothers had specialized in the usage of Prototype Rivet Guns that were designed for combat instead of repairing. While I could wield them with deadly accuracy and understood the benefits of ranged weaponry, I found the rush of killing Splicers with my drill much more fulfilling than simply squeezing a trigger and watching the individual die.

With my drill, I got the pleasure of cracking the Splicer's skull open. The sight of the mixture of confusion and fright in their eyes, the roaring of my drill's motor, the warmth of their lifeblood spilling onto my leather and canvas hide, and the sight of the light fading from their eyes all made combat with my drill addicting. Besides, the weapons of Rapture were prone to malfunction due to inadequate maintenance in a wet environment. While the flimsy lead shooters were malfunctioning, I had usually closed the distance and given the Splicer a taste of my steel. Given the cramped confines of the city streets, I rarely had to worry about being out in the open.

After tossing the weapon down to the feet of the dead tin man, I moved forward through the open security gate. To my left, there was a medical clinic. To my right, a path went somewhere out of sight but given the large sign of "Rapture Metro" above its entrance, I assumed that it went down to awaiting submarines. Before me was a set of stairs going up to the next security gate with two television monitors on either side of the landing. To my left, next to the entrance to the medical clinic, was a green lounge chair that had an EVE HYPO lying on its mothball eaten cushion.

A remnant of Ryan Security was muttering to himself as he paced around just before the landing of the stairs. Whatever personal Hell was inside his mind, it was bad enough to cause him to have his hands up around his head, including the revolver in his right hand. His faded coat with the trademark gold "R" on the back, matching hat, and matching attire were covered with all manner of filth as well as sporadic tears. I could tell that his Webley Mk IV revolver was on its last legs as it had a hairline crack in its barrel.

Making as much noise as possible to attract his attention, I hurried into the medical clinic. My maneuver proved to be wise as I saw another Splicer, a woman with an ornate mask covering her face and wielding a large pipe wrench, appear from the right path. Letting out cries, they both chased me into the clinic. Mindlessly, they funneled through the same entrance that I had used.

As the woman swung her wrench, I sent an uppercut with my drill into her throat. Warm blood gushed out of her severed carotid artery onto my drill and chest. As she staggered forward, gasping with squelching noises, I swung my drill to the right. The side of my tool caught her on the right side of her head and sent her flying to the right as she rattled her final breath. The revolver wielding Splicer shot me with his .38 caliber weapon, causing me to give off an enraged roar. The pain vanished as the healing liquid inside my tank worked its magic on my wound.

Before he could shoot again, I ducked behind the blind on the other side of the red clinic chair. As he ran around the side of the blind, I rushed forward. My charge closed the distance. Before he could react, I had sent my drill into his weapon. The weakened frame of the revolver shattered like a window pane hit with a rock. The unarmed Splicer had a comical look of confusion on his wrinkled face before I sent the point of my drill into his face. Moments later, after grabbing the free medkit, I left the room as I gave off a victorious groan.

I started to go down the right-hand path, but I halted dead in my tracks as I caught a whiff of the familiar scent of Eleanor. Turning towards the stairs, I realized that the scent was coming from the other side of the security door. As if in a trance, I mindlessly walked towards the stairs. The monitor on the left side of the landing emitted the image of Sofia Lamb and the words, "AND NOW A WORD FROM DR. LAMB."

The monitor on the right side of the landing displayed one of the old public service videos about not disturbing the Little Sisters. I laughed slightly upon seeing the video. If Sofia needed these videos, her "Rapture Family" was not as unified as she probably wanted. Moving past the art deco statues as I climbed the stairs, I saw the giant blue with gold leaf sign of "Adonis Luxury Resort" above the door.

When the gate rose, I was met by the sight of a Little Sister singing to herself while she was gathering alone and in the dark. As I approached, my head-mounted light powered on to illuminate her. She looked like the other Little Sister except that she had a yellow and white dress. Her back was turned to me as she continued to gather ADAM from the corpse of a mummified man in front of another ornate golden globe with the blue words "Adonis Luxury Resort" in the center of it.

I was already too close. Metaphorical alarm bells went off my head and I readied myself to face the onslaught of her protector. However, seconds passed and yet I failed to hear the incoming thundering footsteps and war-like, rage-filled whale cry. After a moment, it dawned on me: she did not have a protector.

Outraged that yet another Little Sister had been left to fend for herself in this icebox, I moved towards her to protect her. Something was wrong here. One would have just been the carelessness of her tin man protector. This was a second. This was something else entirely. What the fuck was going on here? Where were all the Big Daddies? Why were these Little Sisters not in company of a protector?

As I neared her, she stood up and looked at me. With a huge smile on her face, she hopped several times while waving at me. I smiled slightly beneath my face as I began to bend down so that she could stand on the specially built carrier on my back. However, I shot back up as the ear-shattering shriek filled the air. I called back with a threatening guttural roar as I realized that it was that creature. It was going to try to hurt this Little One too?! Not if I had anything to say about it!

I saw the red eye appear on the second floor landing. I went to prepare myself to defend the Little Sister but, to my surprise, the little girl informed me, "Shh! Daddy, Big Sister doesn't want you playing with me." I lowered my guard as her words hit home. Big Sister? That skinny creature of metal was an older Little Sister? So, she was a protector too? I felt slightly relieved because this had all just been a misunderstanding. There was no reason for us to fight since we were both protectors.

However, I soon paid the price for dropping my guard. The Big Sister leaped from the landing to the top of the globe. Then, before I could react, she jumped onto my chest. I grunted in shock as she glared down at me with her red eye as she growled at me for a moment. Before I could explain that I was just an old Big Daddy and therefore not a threat to her charge, she back flipped off me, rolled backwards through the air, and landed on her feet a few yards away.

The aggression in her stance informed me that she had no intention to listen to me. Raising my drill and my left hand, I entered a combat stance. Noticing that she was standing in a pool of water, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt out of my left hand. My plasmid assault struck the lithe armored adolescent and she shrieked as electric arcs danced around her body. However, much faster than I predicted, she recovered. She rushed forward and I just barely managed to dodge her by moving to the left.

The tip of the large needle-like attachment on her left arm penetrated deep into the metal security door where I had been standing seconds prior. Still having reservations about fighting a grown Little Sister, I did not take advantage of her brief vulnerability and let out a groan to try to talk to her. She was a grown Little Sister, but a Little Sister nonetheless. She would understand what I was saying.

Again however, she made me pay the price for my inaction as she ripped her needle out of the security gate and stabbed me in my chest. I grunted in surprise but luckily, I still had plenty of healing liquid in my tank. After back flipping away again, she sent several Incinerate! blasts at me. I managed to dodge them. Unable to bring myself to attack her beyond that first Electro Bolt blast, I merely continued to dodge her attacks.

Her agility, strength, and plasmid abilities were astounding. Not even Spider Splicers could compete with her agility. Her strength was on par with my own. Her plasmid abilities were far superior to my own. As she flipped and jumped in and out of my line of sight while she continued to attack me, I had never felt so old. Our sleek design made my brothers and I the most agile Big Daddies in Rapture but this Big Sister was moving around me as if I was standing still.

My luck finally ran out as she began to herd me up the large flight of stairs in the center of the room. At the very top of the stairs, I found a baby stroller and a large quantity of water pouring in from the ceiling. The stairs came to a drop off that went straight down to the bar and small restaurant below. As my left foot stepped next to the edge, it gave way, causing me to have to move to avoid tumbling down with it.

I heard the lithe girl laugh sadistically as she began to line up for the charge that would send me flying over the edge. Eleanor's beautiful smiling face and my memory of her singing the line, "Daddy, daddy won't you please come home?" filled my mind. It was between protecting my Eleanor and hurting this feral, grown Little Sister. Realizing that I did not have a choice now except to defend myself, I turned my body to face her completely.

As she rushed towards me, I groaned an apology. Then, my Protector Instincts took over. Her charge made her vulnerable. I took advantage of this by unleashing a blast of Electro Bolt. She shrieked in pain as the blue arcs danced around her armored form. I cracked her across her bulbous metal face with the point of my drill, creating a cloud of sparks.

With a combination of Electro Bolt blasts and drill swings, I forced her partially back down the stairs. Around halfway up the stairs, I hit her with another blast of Electro Bolt. However, this time, I cocked my right arm all the way down to the left before swinging it all the way back to strike the Big Sister full force across the side of her head. My blow lifted her off her feet and sent her tumbling through the air.

She crashed into the globe in a tremendous cloud of sparks, demolishing the metal structure with a loud vibrating noise. As I approached, I revved up my drill as I anticipated for her to fight to the death. However, to my surprise, she let out an ear-shattering shriek before she retreated away through a boarded-up entrance to an adjacent area of the resort. I powered down my drill. Relieved that I did not have to murder the grown sister heartlessly, I took the time to scavenge through the nearby bar.

As I did, the public service announcement loudspeaker system activated. I heard the voice of Sofia say, "This is Dr. Sofia Lamb with a message for the people. Remember, Big Sister is always watching. To steal ADAM is to steal from the Rapture Family, your family." I let out an enraged growl even though I knew that she could not hear me. That cruel woman was forcing these poor girls to act as her "boogeymen" to keep the remaining population in line.

I scoffed at the thought. One trained dogs and unfortunately, in some circumstances, children the same way. The combination of fear and love would keep the dog or child in a state of docility as it sought to please its master or parent figure. It was a classic reward/punish training method, timeless and still just as effective as it had been at the dawn of time.

My search resulted in a medkit, some drill fuel, and twenty more dollars. Despite my attempts to find an alternate path, I found that I only had one way to go. As I moved through the crumbling restaurant called "Demeter's Banquet Hall", I reflected on how different Rapture was now.

Before, yes, it was a monument to what egotism could accomplish in exchange for a few people being trampled in the wake of progress. However, it was never depressing or a warning to those who dared to believe that humanity should be let off the leash of governmental control. Now, it was Hell on Earth, plain and simple. I had to get Eleanor out of here! Even if it once again cost me my life, I would ensure that she got to see the Sun. I would gain redemption in her eyes!

Towards the back of the crumbling area, I saw the Big Sister dart away. Not wanting to frighten her into a final stand, I waited for a moment before continuing. During that time, I read the message written on the wall with white house paint. "WE WILL BE REBORN IN THE COLD WOMB OF THE OCEAN".

Figuring that enough time had passed, I moved forward. I came to the upper landing. I grunted in annoyance when I saw that the only way forward was to fall down to the bottom floor. The majority of the bottom floor, which was once the dinning area, of course, was flooded with the icy cold water of the Atlantic Ocean. After bracing myself for the sting of the frigid water, I carefully dropped down to the bottom floor.

The moment that I hit the water, my world slowed as I heard the cry of the Big Sister and the unmistakable sound of metal on glass. Looking up with dread, I saw her jumping from one end of the room to the other as she ran her needle-like weapon across the surface of the huge glass panel against the back wall. The razor sharp point of her weapon compromised the glass panel and streams of water began to pour into the room. She hit the ground and turned towards me. After giving off a sadistic laugh, she bolted to the right out of my line of sight.

Before I could do anything, the entire glass panel submitted to the force of the water behind it. As it gave way, the waters of the Atlantic rushed in to claim their prize. As the wall of water roared towards me, I cringed because I knew that I was about to be very cold. Seconds later, the wall of frigid water collided with me.


	3. Chapter 3: Welcome to Rapture

Ch. 3: Welcome to Rapture

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry it took so long. Normally, I try to update every week.

Thank you to everyone that fav'ed and followed my story! I appreciate it!

Read and review if you want.

* * *

I shuddered as the icy waters overtook my body. Despite my spliced Big Daddy physique, my body was still sensitive to such things. Luckily, my metal lungs provided me with a practically endless supply of oxygen and my canvas and leather skin protected me from the extreme conditions of this alien landscape. When my vision returned, I found the entire room flooded. Thick, green mud covered everything near the now warped gaping hole where the windowpanes had been. The force of the water had pushed the bronze statues almost back to where I was. The ceiling had partially collapsed, leaving tiny pieces of rubble in my path.

Looking around me, I saw more utter devastation. The room was almost unrecognizable. The lights flickered as they fought on vainly to provide illumination for the restaurant patrons that were long-gone. Remains of paper and cloth filled the water around me. Schools of fish swam past me as they eagerly explored this new virgin territory. I was filled with a strange feeling of loss as a once beautiful wooden table floated past me. It reminded me of exploring shipwrecks in my previous life.

In my previous life, I had always been fond of the sea. Its elusive mysteries always held me in awe in a way that few other things could. It seemed like I was one of the few individuals that the cruel, heartless mistress of the sea took pity on as I had survived things during my career as a U.S. Navy Master Diver that defied explanation. Countless times, my comrades had believed that my demise had finally come only for me to surface nearby due to a freak gas expulsion from the seabed or some other phenomena that had miraculously saved my life.

Before me, in the huge pile of debris and mud, was a "u" shaped depression that was just wide enough for me to get through. Not wanting to be in the freezing Atlantic water longer than I had to be, I began to force my way forward. Everything echoed in my head as I made my way towards the hole. Beyond, I saw two beams of light that, upon closer inspection, came from the wrecked remains of a submersible just beyond the hole. At least, I thought that they were coming from the submersible. As I neared the remains of the stage that was beside the glass panels, I realized that the lights were coming from giant metal housings. Whether they were placed there intentionally to illuminate the sea floor or were the remains of this ruined resort, I did not know.

The submersible itself only had two flickering lights on either side of its compromised central glass window located in the front. As I began to pass through the hole, my radio activated. The thick German accented voice of Tenenbaum piped through my radio as she said, "In that suit, even the ocean cannot harm you. This is good. But Rapture is the death of many great men. Alone, you will not survive long. You can still reach the train station- find me there."

With nowhere to go but forward, I entered the abyss beyond the hole. As I neared the wrecked bathysphere, I saw a light flicker on inside of it. A trail of bubbles blocked my view of the interior until I was standing just outside the compromised vehicle. Inside, I saw two bodies. As I looked at the two bodies, a memory broke loose inside my mind.

* * *

"Hey, you awake down there old man?" My diving helmet's radio barked unceremoniously.

Groaning, I replied, "Affirmative topside." Being mindful of the fact that I was still tethered to the diving bell, I continued searching for the reason of my extremely hazardous mission. The thick darkness of the ocean floor made it impossible to see more than three feet in front of me. I had passed several small wrecks, likely commercial fishing trawlers. However, so far, I had yet to discover a reason for their sinking. Their hulls were compromised by the impact with the bottom so I could not definitively determine the cause of their demise.

My radio activated once again as the topside U.S. Navy Research Vessel contacted me, "Any luck finding that Nazi or Red Outpost yet, Chief?" Following several naval vessels being mysteriously lost south of Iceland, we had been tasked with locating a caused for the losses. Command believed that the Nazis had somehow created an outpost under the ocean originally so their U-Boats could resupply safely, but now, with the fall of the Third Reich, they were using it as a staging post for guerrilla-style resistance and possibly even wanted to create a new Reich. However, the newest generation of officers believed that the Soviets had a secret base in the area and were planning to use the facility as a launch site for their nuclear warheads.

I replied, "Negative. I have located several commercial fishing vessels but was unable to determine the cause of their sinking. Continuing search."

My assistant said, "Copy that, sir."

After searching for another few minutes, I began to worry that we were in the wrong area. However, just as I was about to give up and return to the diving bell, a cluster of lights to my right caught my attention. As I made my way towards the light, I informed topside, "Hold on, I may have something here..."

Coming over a rise on the seafloor, I suddenly came face-to-face with something impossible. A giant underwater city loomed before me like a sparkling jewel beneath the ocean. As if in a trance, I slowly walked towards it as a feeling of awe overwhelmed me. It was the most spectacular thing that I had ever seen. Neon lights advertised products unknown on the surface, gigantic skyscrapers rose up from the seafloor like mountains of metal, glass, and light, and other evidence of prosperity were immediately apparent. The city looked like a beacon of hope compared to the Hellish world above. However, as I neared it, my trance was broken as I was rudely awakened to the situation.

An angry voice suddenly piped through my radio, "What is this that knocks on the door of MY city? Who sent you parasite? The wolf or the jackal?"

Remaining calm, I replied, "Neither, sir. I assure you, I am simply a deep sea explorer. I am investigating the loss of ships in this part of the ocean. I meant no trespass on your property. I will just be leaving now." I went to leave, but the man stopped me.

He said, "No, parasite. You will not be leaving. I _assure_ you that you will not live long enough to return to your bell. I had been tempted to let you and your comrades live until you were unfortunate enough to see the lights from my city."

As a feeling of cold erupted inside my mind, my assistant from the surface contacted me, "Sir! We're under attack! Get out of th..." His voice was suddenly cut as I heard the sound of gunfire.

My mind was briefly shell-shocked from the sudden turn of events. Then, my survival instincts kicked in as I began to locate a way into the city. Since the city would need periodic exterior maintenance, there must have been airlocks that allowed entrance into the city. I had to find one before the equalizing pressure inside my suit was released from the surface. If I did not, my entire body would implode from the extreme pressure of the ocean depths.

As I pushed my legs as fast as they would go, the angry man contacted me again. He said, "I apologize for the extreme measures that I have been forced to take. However, please understand parasite, I cannot allow your kind to feed on the body of my city. People are entitled to what they have earned. Your kind has no place here. Just relax and accept your fate, parasite. It will be over before you even feel it."

Refusing to die cold and alone in the mud and the dark of the ocean floor, I continued forward. Though it was just because I was paranoid, I felt as though I could already feel the air supply from the diving bell and ultimately from the surface getting thinner. The thick green and tan mud beneath my feet was like quicksand and I had to fight for every step. By the time that I had reached the side of one of the structures, I was completely exhausted and had to use the side of the underwater building to remain standing upright. Inside the building, I could see well-dressed people pointing at me as I leaned against one of the windows.

Noticing a worn trail in the mud, I followed it in hopes of finding an airlock. My strategy succeeded as I soon located a flooded, open airlock. With the last ounce of my energy, I heaved my body into the lock's barnacle encrusted interior. However, I faced one last obstacle: my tethered line to the diving bell. There was a chance that the line would prevent the airlock from completely sealing. Out of time and options, I steeled myself and proceeded to firmly grab the handle of the cycle switch located on the wall in a housing similar to a ship's telegraph.

I had no sooner used the last ounce of strength left in me to cycle the airlock before I gagged as seawater began to fill up my helmet through the tethered line. Luckily, the line was pinched shut by the exterior entrance of the airlock. However, without a supply of oxygen, I now faced the prospect of suffocating.

As the water in the lock drained away, I reached down and unscrewed my nonmagnetic beryllium copper diving knife from its brass sheath. Holding the wooden handle in my right hand and holding the line in my left hand, I began to saw through the compromised tether with the serrated edge of my knife.

I heard the other entrance open as I finished sawing through the line. My thoughts began to race as I felt fatigue hit me. Not even bothering to sheath my blade, I stomped out of the airlock. Upon hearing gasps, I looked up to see a group of children staring wide-eyed at me. They must have snuck into the maintenance bay to explore. One of them, a pale young girl with brown hair tied back into two ponytails bravely demanded with a British accented voice, "Your suit is not right. Who are you mister?"

My delirious, exhausted mind mistranslated the question as being "Where are you from mister?" Unable to continue, I dropped to my knees. As the children began to gather around me, I released my grip on my knife, which clattered against the floor. Just before darkness claimed me, I replied, "Top...topside...ma'am." Then, I collapsed onto my left side as darkness overtook my vision.

* * *

That had been how my nightmare started. By either dumb luck or perhaps fate, I had somehow managed to locate the one airlock that led to the maintenance bay where Eleanor and a group of her secret friends were exploring. If it had not been for her actions, Ryan's men would have found me. I shook my head as I barked at myself to focus. That was then and this was now. Eleanor needed me. My past was irrelevant. Eleanor was all that mattered.

Hearing a loud crash, I saw that one of the resort's signs had broken free from the building and landed directly in my path. Leaving the side of the bathysphere, I moved forward through the path between the large sections of rock that towered above me on either side. Upon reaching the red lettered obstacle, I stepped up on top of it with my heavy right foot and then stepped down on the other side. I was capable of jumping but the landing hurt too much for me to get into the habit of doing it.

Ahead of me, I saw a series of windows that allowed me to see the interior hallway of the nearby building. I began to walk towards it but let out a grunt when I saw the Little Sister skipping down the hallway past one of the vents. The vent resembled a beacon as it was the only object in the dark hallway that was illuminated. Stomping towards the side of the structure, my Protector Instincts began to make their presence known in my mind as I feared that another Little Sister was without an escort. Soon, however, I was met by the sight of another new protector.

This one was clearly not a grown Little Sister. Judging by its immense height and size, I ventured a guess that it was a new Big Daddy model. It did not appear to be as heavily armored as the Bouncer or Rosie. Moreover, it looked more cobbled together than the previous models. Ropes were used to hold armor plates along its canvas body and belts were used to secure a strange contraption that was mounted over its right shoulder in place.

Its face was not even solid. Instead, it had a weird canvas barrel looking design with two round portholes on the end with one being larger than the other and four portholes arranged in a circle along the middle of its bizarre elongated face. Its body resembled that of a Rosie's except without the muscular build, colorful skin, and external armor.

Had the fools at Ryan Industries finally wised up to the fact that they needed to stop favoring brawn over intelligence? The Bouncers were as clear of an indication of the superiority of the strength of the mind over raw muscle in combat as a child would have needed. Those lumbering tin men were a step in the wrong direction in my opinion.

As I moved closer, I was horrified to see a man appear and begin to fire his revolver at the pair. I let out a guttural roar as the artificial maddening fury of my programming erupted inside my mind. Rushing forward, I watched the new tin man as he defended his charge.

The giant lifted the child over his left shoulder and then threw what looked like a metal ball about the size of a softball in an arc towards the man. As the ball hit the ground, I saw that it was actually an automated miniature turret that began to fire small caliber rounds at the man. I felt my spirits lift as I witnessed the use of an automated turret for tactical fire suppression. Perhaps, I had been right about this new model.

However, to my complete dismay, the notion of a more intelligent model was dismissed as the protector rushed forward as he used a lever in his right hand to fire a rocket from the contraption mounted over his right shoulder. Rockets? Fucking typical! Even less brains with even more brawn! That rocket launcher would not be so cute once his enemies got straight in his face. What does he use for melee? His left fist?

My suspicion was confirmed when a disfigured female Splicer rushed from the other end of the hallway and started swinging her bent golf club into the tin man's back. The Big Daddy roared as he wheeled around and struck the woman in her face with his massive left fist. The blow was enough to snap the woman's neck. With all of the Splicers neutralized, the Big Daddy's portholes returned to their neutral yellow color. As the Little Sister began to make her way further into the building, the tin man observed me where I was just beyond the exterior of the window directly in front of him for a moment.

As he did, I raised my gloved left hand up, turned it around so the top was facing the brute, and then flipped the ridiculous protector my middle finger. This brute warranted even less of my respect than the other Mass Production Big Daddies. Some of my Alpha Series brethren specialized in rocket launchers but only if their weapons were modified to prevent damaging flashback both for themselves, and, more importantly, for their daughters.

This brute was more of a danger to himself and to his charge than he was to a Splicer. During that little confrontation, I had seen the poor girl's skin flash yellow from being hurt at least five times. Little Sisters were practically immortal, but I could personally attest that they felt pain like everyone else. Clearly somewhat put off by my blatant disrespect, the tin man turned around and followed his charge.

I turned to the right and continued forward towards the train station. Ahead of me, I saw the remains of a fishing trawler that I noticed, humorously, had a school of fish above it. Continuing, I passed underneath a school of jellyfish as I walked through the skeletal remains of a whale. Just beyond its skull, I noticed an advertisement for "Meal-Time Frozen Dinners". Happening to look up, I noticed the tail section of commercial airplane on the top of a large rock outcropping. Beneath the ocean growth, I saw that it was once white with blue detailing. Despite thinking that there had to be an interesting story with that one, I pressed ahead.

Up ahead, the path narrowed as it went through a large cave-like area. I followed the path for a moment. Then, as I went to the left, there, shinning less brightly than I remembered was Rapture. As I approached the hole that overlooked the city, I saw an anglerfish being devoured by a shark. Seconds later, a giant squid swam past.

I laughed with a grunt as I thought, 'There's always someone bigger and stronger than you, my friend. That's what I always told my brothers. That is why intelligence is better than brawn. React. Adapt. Overcome. The difference between an amateur and a professional is their proficiency with those three things.'

Looking slightly to the right, I noticed a billboard that had bold letters that read, "WELCOME TO RAPTURE". Below them, in smaller font was the phrase, "YOUR BEAUTIFUL CITY". I walked to the edge of the hole. I cringed when I saw that it was a straight drop down to the next section of seafloor. Steeling myself, I walked over the edge.

After falling several stories, I let out a loud anguished grunt when I landed on the top of what appeared to be a generator. Before me was a large air condition unit looking machine that had a trial of bubbles exiting out of the top where the fan blade was located. After taking the final plunge down to the, surprisingly clean looking, seafloor, I turned to my left. Before me were two large pipes that jutted out from the rock outcropping.

Moving forward, I passed beneath them to find the Atlantic Express Train Station. Relieved at the prospect of getting out of the icy water, I moved towards the building with renewed vigor. However, as I approached it, a Big Sister, possibly the same one from the resort, appeared. I paused as I did not want to frighten her into a fight. Once again demonstrating her impressive physical abilities, she jumped up and then swiveled around to face me as she paused by the yellow "Atlantic Express Maintenance Depot" sign that was a good two stories above the ocean floor.

After staring me down for a moment with her Hellish red eye, she jumped once again except, this time, she continued up and even began to swim. I lost sight of her as she swam beyond the top of the building. I felt a wave of sympathy for the poor adolescent. What had this city done to her? Teenagers were supposed to be concentrating on trivial matters that seemed important during this stage of their life, not intimidating an armored diving suit clad monster at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean surrounded by the ruins of a once thriving city.

Seeing the open airlock with two statues of Poseidon wielding a triton on either side of the entrance, I moved towards it. Upon entering the airlock, I moved to the far left corner where the cycle switch was located. Gripping the handle with my left hand, I cycled the airlock. Moments later, the water finished draining and I waited for the second door to open. As I did, my radio activated. Tenenbaum sounded genuinely grateful as she said, "Ah, Herr Delta...you arrive, as the little ones said you would. Come upstairs to the ticket booth, and I will offer what I know of you."

Know of me? Is that what she thought I had come all this way for? I knew perfectly well what and who I was. Whatever, as long as she could point me in the right direction to find Eleanor, I did not care. Eleanor was the important thing. Everything else was just a ghost of my past. A dinging noise riled me from my thoughts. The interior entrance to the airlock opened to reveal a heavily encrusted maintenance bay. Directly in front of me at the opposite side of the room was a male "Thuggish" Splicer. Upon seeing me, he fled deeper into the building.

Moving forward in a combat stance with my drill at the ready and blue electrical arcs dancing around my left hand, I began to make my way towards Tenenbaum. The crustaceans crunched beneath my armored feet as I moved forward. Overhead, a giant fan grinded in its housing as it slowly rotated. Hanging down from the ceiling were several abandoned diving suits that heavily resembled the Rosies' armor. The fan cast eerie shadows in the room as I passed beneath it.

After searching the lockers for anything useful, which resulted in some drill fuel, an EVE Hypo, and a few cans of food that I discarded as I had long since lost the need for food, I continued forward. The distorted sound of a song filled the air with its haunting, ghostly tones as I proceeded after the rambling Splicer. After climbing a set of stairs, I came to a sign that read, "Atlantic Express Maintenance Facility". Turning right, I saw another set of stairs and made my way towards them. All awhile, the Splicer was continuing to ramble as if he was talking to someone.

Eventually, as I passed a useless Vita-Chamber and the overhead mail tube, I saw the deranged individual. He was messing with one of the doors a few feet ahead of me. Realizing what he was about to do, I grunted threateningly as I stomped towards him. He cried out in terror and retreated further into the building. However, before I could reach it in time, the security bulkhead closed and remained closed due to the Splicer's jerry-rigging.

As I approached the bulkhead, my radio activated. Tenenbaum said with noticeable disgust, "Now, most who survive are like this. Splicers. They are drug addicts, vicious animals." Standing before the slightly discolored metal security gate, I let out a frustrated groan that echoed through the hallways of the flooding depot. Out of irritation, I thrust my drill into the gate. My strike left a gouge in the bulkhead and created sparks but otherwise was fruitless.

A fully enraged Bouncer was capable of muscling his way through a security gate and I had personally witnessed a clever Rosie use his mines to demolition his way through one once. However, I was unsure if Alpha Series Big Daddies possessed the raw muscular fortitude to accomplish such a feat. I did not doubt my kind's abilities. I simply had never attempted such a feat and I had never witnessed one of my brothers attempt it.

Perhaps, I needed to take my own advice and utilize my intelligence rather than continuing to rely upon my body. These gates were controlled, of all things, electronically. For being built by geniuses, this city had some rather amateur designs in its construction. Surrounded by water at the bottom of the ocean, yet half of the city relied upon electrical systems for its fail-safe security measures. No wonder the city was flooding. If I could just find some way to reach the control panel on the other side of the gate, I could get the gate open.

Looking around, I noticed the side room to my right. Upon entering the room, I saw a strange looking device on the table to the left. As I neared it, I saw a little dispenser for darts of some kind on the wall and a diagram for the device. Upon inspection, the diagram revealed the device to be a "remote hack device".

As useful as that would be, I would have to detach my drill in order to use it. Detaching my drill was the one thing that I avoided if I could get away with it. 'This is my drill! There are many like it but this one is mine! Without me, my drill is useless! Without my drill, I am useless!'

Looking at the window, I noticed that it was broken just enough to allow a blast of Electro Bolt to pass through it and into the control panel for the door on the far wall near the gate. If I could introduce a big enough of a jolt into the system, the circuit would read it as a command to open the door and would reverse the locking mechanism. Focusing on hitting the panel, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt out of my left hand and into the panel. My tactic worked and the door opened. Returning to the hallway, I continued forward.

Just beyond the gate, I found a Security Bot on the floor. Designed by Gilbert Alexander, the same man that designed the Alpha Series and our unique bonds with our daughters, the odd machine resembled an outboard boat motor that someone had modified to carry a belt-fed Thompson submachine gun whose ammunition was supplied by a small fruit crate mounted on the back of the machine. Using the helicopter-like propellers located on the top and the existing propeller at the bottom of the foot, the device was the airborne menace of Rapture. Once the Security Cameras identified an intruder, the Security Bots would attack in endless waves of pairs until the target was dead, the camera was hacked, or the alarm's time limit ran out.

It was grinding its props onto the floor as if it was trying to get airborne. Standing next to it, I had to admit that having an ally, however temporary, would be a nice change of pace. Kneeling down, I inspected the machine. I was not an engineer by any stretch of the imagination nor did I have any fancy degrees like the man who designed these machines. However, I had been working with my hands to make a living since I was old enough to work.

The hardware was basic, which was no surprise, and what the eggheads would call the "CPU" was located just above the mounted weapon in a rectangular housing. The device would need an inhibitor for the periods of storage. Therefore, if I could just find it and bypass the wiring to it, I could rig the machine to be constantly active. Once I reactivated it, the machine would seek out the nearest radio frequency, which, in my case, theoretically would be from the one built into in my head.

After a moment, I managed to locate the inhibitor and disconnected the wire running to it. With the inhibitor bypassed, I stood and placed my right foot on top of the machine. Firmly grasping the pull start rope's handle in my gloved left hand, I pulled back on it in a smooth motion. Giving off a loud shrill noise, the machine powered to life as its motor briefly ejected black smoke. The green light emitting from the round lights mounted on the front indicated that the machine was friendly. With my escort, I began to move forward once again.

On the wall ahead of me, written with white house paint, was the phrase, "WE WILL BE REBORN". Beneath it was a kind of shrine made with around a dozen lit white candles. Moving into the room beyond, I turned to see the shadow of the Splicer as he retreated further into the building. I mentally sighed as I wondered if the Splicer thought that he was being clever by luring me into an ambush.

Calmly proceeding after him, I soon found myself in a workshop. A greenish monorail-style train was mounted in the center of the room by an overhead track. Around the abandoned vehicle were the remains of the worktables and tools that the workers once used to repair it. Now, of course, the sounds of repairing and idle chatter were long-gone. In their place, the sounds of the Splicers laughing to each other while they waited for me to appear filled the air.

Moving into the workshop, I prepared myself for the coming confrontation. As I neared the center of the room, a loud cracking sound rocked the air and seconds later, the train crashed to the flooded floor of the repair bay beneath it. As if the dinner bell had been rung, Splicers came charging out from where they had been hiding. To my left, a woman with a welding mask covering her face and wielding a section of pipe rushed towards me. In the far right corner of the room, another Splicer ran towards me.

My Security Bot gave off an alarm and began to fire its submachine gun at the Splicer at the other end of the room. Focusing on the woman, I electrocuted her with a blast of Electro Bolt. As she cried out in agony while blue electric arcs danced around her disfigured body, I swung the razor sharp tip of my drill into her face. The welding mask might as well have been paper as my hardened steel tool easily penetrated the thin mask.

The sound of crunching bone filled the air and the usual squirt of blood flew out of the open wound as the Splicer crumpled to the ground. I had no time to celebrate as I let out an enraged roar when a pipe wrench struck me in my right shoulder. Swinging my drill all the way back behind me, I struck the male Splicer full force in the side of his head with the side of my drill.

The force of my blow lifted the man off his feet and launched him several feet through the air. He smashed against the side of the wall and then collapsed unceremoniously into a heap at the base of the wall. He, of course, had been dead before his feet had even left the ground as the force of my blow had broken his neck and shattered his skull instantly.

Seconds after I had dispatched my two assailants, the loudspeaker system activated. The voice of my daughter's kidnapper announced, "This is a message from Doctor Sofia Lamb. Andrew Ryan is dead, but the tyrant dwells within us all. Remember, we reject the gene; we reject the self, we reject the tyrant."

I was stunned by the revelation. Andrew Ryan was dead? As overjoyed as I was by this news, I felt a sense of disappointment because I had wanted to be the one that killed him. Shrugging off my feeling of disappointment, I focused back on getting to Tenenbaum. Seeing the health station mounted against the wall on the left, I moved over to it and destroyed it with my drill. After refilling the red tank on my back with the health kit, I searched the room quickly for supplies.

My search resulted in eight dollars, more drill fuel, which I had to ignore because my reserve tank was already full, and another can of useless food. Continuing forward, I found that the massive security bulkhead behind the train was sealed. I would have to open it using the switch located inside the control room. Locating the entrance to "Gate Control" room in the far right corner of the workshop, I made my way towards it.

On the wall to the left of the entrance to the control room, I saw another message. This one read, "The end of RYAN Is the end of the SELF". Moving into the control room, I located the switch. However, my instincts caused me to be uncomfortable in the room. The light emitted from the overhead light fixture bathed the room with an unsettling red hue. The metal shutters were closed on both sides of the gate controls. Two television monitors were mounted against the wall to the left of the controls and five were mounted to the right. Frigid water dipped down into the room from the right ceiling fan.

I did not like this situation at all. If something were to happen, I would be trapped in this tiny box. However, I had no choice. I had to get to Tenenbaum in order to get to my beautiful Eleanor. Mentally sighing, I firmly grasped the switch handle with my left hand and pulled it down. Instantly, my instincts were proven correct as the room turned pitch black as the lights were cut off.

After sulking from humiliation alone in the dark for a moment, the television monitors audibly powered on. White light filled the room, briefly blinding me. When my vision returned, I was met by the sight of the woman who had dared to harm my daughter. Sofia addressed me, "I know you. That symbol on your hand marks you a dead man."

She actually expressed regret or possibly even guilt for a moment before she continued while the camera got closer and closer to her face, "Ten years, Subject Delta, since I watched you put a gun to your head and pull the trigger. But take heart...out of your pain, paradise was born. I don't know how you survived, but your suffering is over now. These men will ease your burden."

The shutters opened as multiple "Leadhead" Splicers attacked the windows with Thompson submachine gun fire. My thoughts began to race. I was trapped. Refusing to back down, I let out an ear-shattering guttural roar that succeeded in frightening the attacking Splicers for a few seconds. Sofia finished, "Please understand that like all I have done, this...is an act of love."

At the same time that Sofia was finishing her speech, Tenenbaum contacted me with fright in her voice, "It is Sofia Lamb! She has found you!" Seconds later, the Splicers' assault had compromised the windows. I moved to the back of the room to avoid their wild gunfire. However, to my shock, they tossed in two lit Molotov cocktails, one of which landed on me. I roared with fury as flames erupted along my body while .45 ACP rounds began to strike me. The room itself caught fire as well and was soon reduced to a burning coffin.

My health system continued to work its magic but I was unable to reach my assailants to retaliate. However, seconds later, I heard the wooden floor beneath me begin to groan and creak over the sound of the screaming mob outside the room. Realizing what was about to happen, I began to laugh loudly at my would-be murders.

My grunt-like laughs caused a few of them to pause and look at each other briefly before they returned to firing their Thompsons at me. With one final cracking sound, the floor beneath me gave way and, letting out a grunt, I plunged down through the hole. Seconds later, I landed in frigid water that went above my head. For once, I was grateful for the frigid water as it soothed my cooked flesh.

After collecting myself, I observed that I was in a flooded maintenance pumping station. Directly in front of me was a large discarded fan. Freezing, I moved forward to locate the nearest path out of the water. After I had passed multiple desks, several pipes, and four slime-covered, floating corpses, Tenenbaum contacted me, "Now you know of the enemy we share. Sofia Lamb. The camera in your helmet allows me to watch through your eyes and help you to fight her."

Pressing on, I squeezed underneath a narrow access tunnel. On the other side, I saw a flight of stairs that led out of the water. Pushing my body as fast as it would go, I made my way over to the stairs. To the left of the stairs, I saw an advertisement for the 1959 Rapture Masquerade Ball that was complete with the image of the iconic bunny mask.

Slogging up the stairs, I exited the water. Before me, mounted into the wall, was a large fan with a bent blade that was slowly grinding in its housing as it struggled to turn. Moving up the stairs, I noticed a large white butterfly on the far wall that appeared to be made out of handprints in the shape of smaller butterflies. After squeezing underneath the wedged security gate that allowed access into the storage room beyond, I entered the room.

A Vita-Chamber was on the far right side of the storage area and as I neared it, a loud buzzing sound alerted me to the presence of my Security Bot, though how it had managed to reunite with me was a complete mystery to me. Turning left at the Vita-Chamber, I saw the entrance to the "drafting" room. A security camera was mounted on the left wall inside the drafting room. As I approached, I heard the sound of two Splicers rambling inside the room.

To my annoyance, the direct route to the other end of the drafting room was blocked by a fallen filing cabinet. I would have to go around. I had just started to move around the draft room when the two Splicers, a male "Thuggish" and a male "Leadhead", cried out as they saw me. The one armed with a revolver screamed, "Gotta stash myself!" As he ran off to find cover, the one armed with a section of pipe rushed at me.

Mentally sighing, I electrocuted him a blast of Electro Bolt and then followed up with a skull-shattering strike from my drill. Throwing his lifeless body against the glass wall to the right out of impatience with my left hand, I moved forward to eliminate the last Splicer. Staying out of the camera's view by continuing to follow the path on the exterior of the draft room, I flanked around the Splicer, who was engaging my Security Bot.

The deranged man was so focused on my escort that he failed to notice me approaching him from behind. With a single thrust, I buried the sharp point of my drill into the base of his skull. He would have never felt it. Snipers called it the "t". The individual is dead before they hit the floor. My surgical strike neutralized the final threat. After ripping my drill out of his lifeless corpse, I turned and made my way out of the draft room.

Entering the "jet postal office", I was shocked to see a red wagon directly in front of me as if it had been waiting for me. Inside, on top of a few white pillows, I saw another red vial of a plasmid and a jar of lightening bugs. As I crossed the threshold, I was suddenly overcome by the same blissful, peaceful feeling from before as a bright light with pink edges overtook my vision.

My grown daughter's eyes appeared in the center of the light as her beautiful voice filled my mind. "Father...it's me, Eleanor. I know you're awake in there – I can feel it. Mother won't be able to...to toy with you like that, ever again. This plasmid is for you. If I'm right, you can use it NOW!"

The sight of her eyes changed into the sight of her entire body. I was struck by her appearance. She was skinny, extremely pale, and unusually tall for her thin frame. Her face was the most innocent and fragile looking that I had ever seen. However, the sharp look in her blue eyes dismissed the notion of helplessness. She was wearing a white dress just like she had when she was a little girl. Her brown hair was cut short and was the only colorful part of her besides her enchanting blue eyes.

Overjoyed, I started to reach out for her. However, dishearteningly, she began to move away from me. After a moment, she began to run away from me. Why did she run away? She did not sound angry or upset. I called out for her to stop because there might be Splicers nearby but she said, "Please, find me." Then, the feeling and vision vanished as I was returned to the jet postal office.


	4. Chapter 4: Complications

Ch. 4: Complications

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry about the wait. I was working on my F.E.A.R. stuff.

Anyway,

As I mentioned before, this is AU and not a straight rip from the game because that would be too boring. As such, certain things are different. This chapter introduces some of those differences.

I hope some of you are at least finding this to be moderately entertaining.

Coming up, Subject Delta faces his first Production Model Big Daddy and protects his first new Little Sister against Sofia's Splicers.

Read and review if you want

* * *

A wave of confusion rolled through me. Why did my daughter run from me? I knew that she would likely be bitter that I had been unable to protect her but I had hoped that she would find it in her heart to forgive me. Had I been wrong?

I cleared my mind of such concerns. Her feelings for me did not matter. I was her Big Daddy, not her friend. While I had always viewed myself as being her father, I knew deep down that I was nothing more than her guardian. She clearly still wanted me. If she did not, she would have commanded me to self-terminate.

Looking back down at the red wagon, I picked up the plasmid with my left gauntlet encased hand. I groaned in irritation. I really needed to find a more efficient way of doing this. Once again rendering myself useless, I detached my drill and then injected myself with the red liquid. This time, my body did not react so violently. Seconds later, the electric arcs around my left hand disappeared and were replaced by a kind of miasma.

It took me a moment to remember the plasmid. It was called "Telekinesis". I smiled slightly beneath my armored face. My Eleanor certainly was clever. With Telekinesis, I would be able to catch incoming Hypno plasmids as well as interact with my surroundings. After reattaching my drill, I continued forward through the Jet-Postal room.

At the far left corner, I came to a set of stairs. After I had proceeded up the grey metal stairs, I arrived at the top landing. There, I found a message written on the wall with blood. It read, "She knows the way". As I neared it, I heard a male Splicer say, "I'm telling you, he's up topside right now highballin' it with all the..." I could not make out what he said next as I walked out onto the balcony.

I saw another workshop. Below me, around a lit burn barrel, were three Splicers. One of the male Splicers finished, "...and if anyone gets lippy, ha, he's got the bomb!"

Who were they talking about? Someone had escaped Rapture? How? As I continued eavesdropping, the female Splicer said, "Nuts! He saved a kindergarten full of cutesie little brats and lived happy ever after. He was a pansy. End of story."

Brats? The Little Sisters? If someone had rescued them, it would definitely explain the new appearance of the Little Sisters that I had encountered and why they reminded me of Eleanor. This was starting to make sense. This was a new generation of Little Sisters. The few remaining that had survived whatever it was that had happened to this city after my demise must have grown out of their usefulness as gatherers.

Their brainwashing had likely driven them clinically insane. They would have been useful only as the Big Sisters. Without ADAM, Rapture was dead. Anyone wanting to revive the city would need the substance to return life to the population and to the city itself. That meant new gatherers. Unfortunately, there would be only one place to get new little girls for the Gatherer Program: the surface.

Sofia Lamb was a lot of things. However, she was brilliant. Surely, if she was the new ruler of Rapture, she would not endanger the city by exposing its existence to the surface. After all, from what I recalled, she was convinced that the surface was "suicidal". However, perhaps she had lost touch down here in this sinking city.

The other male Splicer said, "You think I give half a shit about what he's done? He's gone now and Doc. Lamb is the news."

Seeing the large metal canisters of pressurized gas around me, I used Telekinesis to levitate one into the air. Aiming for the burn barrel, I launched the canister towards the three Splicers. As the canister made contact with the barrel, it exploded. The ensuing explosion killed the Splicers outright and rocked the air of the cavernous-like workshop.

Seconds later, two more Splicers appeared. Both were armed with revolvers and opened fire upon me. I let out a loud grunt when the small caliber rounds impacted my enormous bulk. Giving off an alarm, my escorting Security Bot flew down to their level and opened fire on the one exiting the cafeteria. I let out a loud roar that shook the entire building. The fourth man was directly below me and was temporarily stunned by my roar. I jumped over the side of the balcony.

I landed directly on top of him. As I descended down onto him with my heavy frame, I heard his spine breaking as he collapsed onto the floor. As he hit the floor, my right armored foot crushed in his skull, killing him instantly. Meanwhile, my companion had killed the other Splicer with a hail of bullets. As I dislodged myself from the crushed remains of the Splicer, another male "Leadhead" Splicer appeared.

Focusing, I switched plasmids and then electrocuted the disfigured man with a blast of Electro Bolt. As he cursed in agony while his body was racked with spasms, I rushed forward and swung my drill's hardened steel point into his head. The familiar sound of a hollow crack filled the air as my strike shattered the man's skull. As his body began to slump forwards, I swung my drill sideways and struck the Splicer in the side of what remained of his head.

The corpse fell to the floor next to the hollow train car that was in the repair bay. Having cleared out the area, I looked around for supplies. After gathering around forty dollars, I decided to investigate the Railway Café.

The water flowing down the short staircase was an indication of the appalling sight that I was about to behold. As I entered the dilapidated restaurant, I heard music coming from the interior of the kitchen. The overhead ceiling fan hung down from its original mounts. The only things anchoring the still operation fan were the electrical cables. Meanwhile, the floor was underwater due to the massive amount of water that was pouring down from the ceiling fan and only a small section underneath the fan was still lined with wooden floorboards.

I began to have second thoughts about wasting my time scavenging the ransacked restaurant for supplies. However, I continued forward. All of the food storage units in the kitchen were empty and the deep fryers were ablaze. Moving to the rear storage room, I found another diary recording but paid little attention to it. However, to my delight, on the storage shelf to my right, I found a gene tonic bottle.

The worn label read, "Drill Specialist". Giving off a brief laugh, I used my Telekinesis plasmid to extract a sample with an empty EVE Hypo and then injected myself with the tonic. The tonic restricted me to the use of my drill but, in return, granted me enhanced endurance with my plasmids. All I would need now was Armored Shell and Drill Power and this "obsolete" Big Daddy would be back on top.

Upon returning to the kitchen, I heard the ramblings of an approaching Splicer. With my bloodied drill at the ready, and with Telekinesis equipped, I exited the kitchen. As I entered the restaurant, I saw two "Thuggish" Splicers near the entrance. Seeing the explosive barrel against the wall, I used my plasmid to levitate the barrel and then launched it at the two disfigured women.

The barrel collided with the nearest Splicer and the resulting explosion killed her outright. However, the other Splicer rushed at me even as flames ate away at her skin. However, her determination was wasted as she collapsed before she even reached me. Wanting to get away from the stench of burning flesh, I quickly exited the café.

Upon returning to the repair bay, I continued towards the open bulkhead at the rear of the train car. As I approached it, however, it suddenly slammed shut in my face. Turning to my left, I saw a female "Thuggish" Splicer approach the bulkhead's gears. In a surprising display of intelligence, the ADAM addict lodged her section of pipe into the gears, jamming them.

My radio activated. Tenenbaum's accented voice filled the inside of my head as she remarked with noticeable disgust, "Ach...Sofia Lamb is using the Splicers against you. Most Big Daddies are like her slaves, guarding the Little Ones...but someone has awakened you..."

Her comment confirmed to me that Sofia was indeed the new ruler of Rapture. I relished the image of Andrew Ryan rolling over in his grave. However, a feeling of dread soon washed over me. With Sofia in control of everything in Rapture, my quest to find Eleanor went from dangerous to all but suicidal. I was the Paragon of the Alpha Series but there was a literal army between my beloved Eleanor and me. My chances of survival were near zero but at that moment, in that oil covered workshop, I made a vow that I would return to my Eleanor's side one way or another.

It was no mystery to me that Eleanor had been the individual responsible for my revival. After all, who else would possibly want to bring back a worn out old man like me? I also doubted that anyone else even remembered me besides her. Knowing my beautiful daughter as I did, she still dreamed of seeing the surface. Perhaps, that was why I was back. She had brought me back to be a kind of golem in a plan of hers to escape Rapture and see the surface.

Personally, I would have preferred it if she had brought me back merely due to the fact that she missed me, but beggars could not be choosers. She had seen fit to give me a second chance. I could escape my legacy of being a failure. I would not fail my daughter this time. Even if it cost me my life once again, I would serve my beloved master unerringly.

I turned and began to investigate the vast workshop for a way to return functionality to the bulkhead. However, I had taken no more than three steps before I felt the feeling of bliss overwhelm me once more. While I did not see Eleanor, I heard her inside my mind as she said, "Father, I know how all of this must seem but I assure you that I did not bring you back to be my golem. Yes, I do need you to assist me in my escape but I brought you back so that you could come with me. I apologize for making you believe that I only intended for you to be the means of my escape. This is all just so sudden. Months of planning and now it is all finally happening. You have no idea how much your absence has pained me Father, but I do not blame you for what Mother did. You are my only friend. I know that you only think of me as your daughter, but I am hoping that by the time you reach me, you can find it in your heart to think of me as something more. Tenenbaum is an ally, and she will tell you where to find me. Please, hurry Father."

With that, the feeling left me. To say that I was bewildered was an understatement. I had been completely wrong. Eleanor had purposely brought me back to be by her side as she escaped Rapture. As grateful as I was that she had missed me enough to find a way to bring me back, I was uneasy about her declaration of wanting me to think of her as "something more" than my daughter.

I had long since forgotten my true age much like my real name, but surely, I was old enough to be her real father, perhaps even her grandfather. Even if I was not a good twenty or thirty years older than her, the thought of her seeing me as something softer than her Big Daddy confused me. I was a disgusting monster; an armored killing machine that was only human in origins. What could she possibly see in a monster like me?

I cleared my mind of such taboo thoughts. I had clearly misinterpreted her statement. She had meant that she wanted me to see her as my friend. Yeah, that was it. She wanted me to see her as my friend, nothing more. Foolish old man, thinking that anyone could love a monster like you, get your head out of the clouds.

Investigating the restroom area, I found that there was a hole in the wall that was large enough for me to use my Telekinesis on the pipe section that was jamming the gears. After removing the pipe, the gears were able to turn and the bulkhead opened. As I exited the restroom, my radio activated once again.

This time, to my surprise, Sofia Lamb's voice piped through my head, "I know of your bond with Eleanor, Delta. To save yourself, you will come for her. But Eleanor has a destiny...one you cannot share. There is no place for you in paradise."

My radio deactivated, leaving me alone with my thoughts. To save myself? What kind of bastard did Sofia take me for? What was this nonsense about paradise? Then again, I should have expected someone who was willing to kill a man in front of his daughter's eyes to get her own way to be completely out of her mind. It was no wonder that Eleanor had gone to such extremes to escape Rapture. I had to get her out of Rapture before Sofia destroyed her.

Exiting the side area of the workshop, I turned left and proceeded past the bulkhead. The area beyond was smaller than the workshop. Straight ahead, the path was filled with rubble and two columns of water rained down from the low ceiling. To the left was a Vita Chamber and to the right was a Circus of Values vending machine.

Deciding to investigate the left path first, I found a downstairs area. Upon going down the stairs, I found a broken window that had two high-pressure twin trails of water entering it. A second set of stairs brought me to the controls for the bulkhead. After locating ten dollars in the pockets of a dead man, I returned to the main room upstairs.

Arriving at the vending machine, I found the mummified remains of a man lying against the chipped exterior of the device. To my surprise, the machine was functional despite its appearance. I bought an Eve Hypo to refill my tank before proceeding onwards. At the far end of the right path, I came to another set of stairs. However, there was a surprise waiting for me this time.

A set of child's blocks landed near the top of the stairs and rolled down to me. As the blocks made their way down to me, their wooden exteriors gave off a sound that seemed to echo inside my mind. There was only one way that those blocks were here: a Little Sister! Giving off a grunt, I raced up the stairs, my heavy footfalls filling the air with thunder.

Just as I reached the landing, I slowed to a halt as the armored form of a Big Sister landed inches away. She screeched threateningly at me while her Hellish red eye bore into me. Then, before I could react, she raced away towards the central turntable. From there, she leapt onto a train car, glared at me for a moment, and then jumped up onto what looked like a metal beam. From there, she jumped onto a hanging sign. She glared at me again before disappearing up into the giant hole in the ceiling.

Something was not right. My suspicions were confirmed seconds later when Tenenbaum instructed me, "Quickly, head for the elevator!" That Big Sister had set me up for an ambush. Moving as fast as my armored bulk would allow, I rushed towards the elevator on the far side of the turntable. Meanwhile, the screams of incoming Splicers filled the air.

I had taken less than five steps before five Splicers appeared before me. Before I could react, one of them had thrown a homemade grenade at me. The homemade device was more bang than it was effective but I let out an enraged roar as it detonated against my torso. The explosion destroyed my Security Bot, which crashed into the offending Splicer and sent him flying a few feet back.

Recovering from the grenade, I stomped forward past the nearest makeshift barricade. Behind it, I found the first Splicer, a disfigured man armed with a revolver and having a heavily bandaged head. As small caliber rounds peppered my frame, I blasted the man with a shot of Electro Bolt and then cracked open his skull with my drill. As he collapsed onto the filthy floor, I turned to face the other denizens.

There were four of them opening fire on me with revolvers that were in horrible condition. I could have sworn that one of them actually had a strand of tape over a crack in the barrel of their sidearm. Seeing the Security Camera behind them, I knew that I had to neutralize the annoying device first. Noticing a hack dart on the top of a nearby worktable, I used Telekinesis to launch it into the camera. The red light of the camera changed to green light and seconds later, a pair of friendly Security Bots arrived unleashing a hail of bullets at the Splicer that had thrown the grenade.

While my assailants were distracted by the bots, I levitated an explosive barrel and sent it into the crowd of Splicers. As the air was filled with flame, I rushed forward towards the elevator. Having killed the man that they were after, the Security Bots returned to wherever it was that they went after killing their target.

Ahead of me, the makeshift barricades reduced the path to a narrow space the size of a doorway. I made my way forward but soon found myself against two "Thuggish" Splicers. In quick succession, I used the classic combo of Electro Bolt and melee strike to dispatch the deranged, pipe-wielding gentlemen. I could hear even more Splicers coming towards me so I quickly proceeded through the narrow path.

On the other side, the path returned to normal. Even better, I saw the elevator less than twenty yards ahead of me. I weathered several more .38 caliber rounds as I ran towards my only escape route. The incoming swarm of Splicers was merciless. Multiple pistol rounds had hit home by the time that I had reached the elevator. Not wasting time, I pressed the green button inside the elevator with my gloved left hand.

Wheeling around, I saw the metal gate of the elevator close just in time. A male "Thuggish" Splicer wielding a pipe wrench began to swing his weapon against the gate while the "Leadhead" Splicers opened fire with their revolvers. Irritated by their single-minded assault, I revved up my drill as I gave off a guttural roar that vibrated deep within my chest. My threat succeeded in frightening them long enough for the elevator to begin to ascend.

As I traveled upwards, the denizens shook off their fear and bullets began to ricochet off the metal exterior of the elevator. As I continued upwards, I saw the inner workings of the train station. Meanwhile, Tenenbaum informed me, "Now, here is what the children tell me. You are a very old Big Daddy...bonded for life to a single little one. When you are apart for too long, your body begins to shut down like a coma. As long as the girl is in Rapture, you are stuck here as well. The name of your Little One is Eleanor Lamb. Daughter of Sofia. She is kept at Fontaine Futuristics on the other side of the city. You must go there and save her, before it is too late."

On the other side of the city?! That was putting it mildly. Fontaine Futuristics could not have been further away from my current location if we had tried! Wondering if my luck would ever get better, I steeled myself for the journey that I was no doubt about to endure. With bathyspheres out of the question, the only way to reach the seized compound was through the old network of the Atlantic Express. Assuming that the lines were still operational, I could reach Eleanor in two hours, maximum.

However, I got the feeling that the Atlantic Express was only going to be the easy part of my journey. Sofia would send all of Rapture after me to prevent me from reaching my daughter. This madwoman was the shadow of the woman that had first entered Rapture as a clinical psychiatrist. Whatever the cause of her obsession to keep us apart, I would have to face her and this cult of hers that seemed to have taken over Rapture head on in order to succeed. Already, I could feel my heart getting weaker. I only had a few hours left, at best, to get to her.

My thoughts turned to my brethren. Surely, I was not the last Alpha Series Big Daddy. Along with the notable protectors Subject Alpha, Gamma, and Sigma, they were all fierce fighters.

Subject Alpha was a close friend of mine and was honestly a much more capable fighter than I was though everyone saw me as the superior protector. A loyal friend, Alpha was the second ever successfully bonded Big Daddy. He was tactically brilliant, even for an Alpha Series, and preferred to use his wits and fully upgraded Prototype Rivet Gun to win fights rather than brute strength. If anyone could have survived all this time, it was Alpha.

Subject Gamma was cocky, sometimes too much for his own good, but he was a fearless fighter, so much so that he favored a fully modified shotgun. However, Gamma had a weakness when it came to thinking his battles out beforehand and I had to intervene during a previous incident to keep both him and his bonded daughter alive.

Sigma was a relative new comer so I did not know much about him. However, I did know that he did not have a bonded sister so it was entirely possible for him to be alive and sane somewhere in the city.

Granted, most of the Little Sisters from our generation appeared to be Big Sisters, "rescued", or "harvested". However, surely, I was not the last one. There had to be survivors somewhere. I refused to believe otherwise. The simple fact that there were Big Sisters meant that some of them had survived whatever had happened to this place. Surviving Little Sisters meant surviving protectors. I had watched my brethren fall apart as the loss of their bonded partners drove them to madness. However, at the time of my death, Subject Alpha, Gamma, Sigma, and a few others were still alive and sane.

Perhaps, if I could locate them, I would be able to enlist their aid. There was another Alpha Series Big Daddy, though I could not remember his name, that had been in hibernation. He had not been bonded to a Little Sister like Sigma. Vaguely, I recalled his designation being Theta, but I could have been mistaken. He was among the last of the Alpha Series Big Daddies. In fact, he was not bonded to a sister because, by then, they had pulled the plug on our program.

I had the most faith in Alpha however. If anyone could have survived all this time, it was him. If he had survived, then his daughter had likely been turned into a Big Sister. I was not sure what happened to Alpha Series Big Daddies that had had their sisters turned into protectors. I doubted that their bonds had been severed so it was entirely possible that Subject Alpha was still out there somewhere.

I arrived at a floor. Through a sheet of glass, I saw a female "Thuggish" Splicer riffling through a corpse with her back turned to me less than five yards away. As the elevator locked into position, the Splicer cried out, "A-a fan?" Then, she beat a hasty retreat towards a set of Trap Rivets that were imbedded into the wall on the side of the stairs. As the denizen ran past the rivets, they fired their secondary rivets into her unarmored body.

The projectiles ripped into her flesh, causing blood to shoot out of her body as they hit her. The Splicer never reached the top of the stairs. Seconds later, the glass sheet raised to allow me to move out of the elevator. I exited the device and moved over to investigate the rivets. As far as I knew, the Trap Rivets could only be fired from one of the Prototype Rivet Guns used by the Alpha Series.

I felt a ray of hope when I saw that the rounds were relatively new. Another Alpha Series had passed through here recently, and had likely been after the wooden boxes of Trap Rivet ammunition that were marked "Sinclair Solutions Trap Rivets". If I hurried, I might be able to locate him. Trap Rivets never fired against my kind so I continued past them. After investigating the manager's office, I made my way to the door that was marked "Ryan Amusements". Next to it, I found a Supplies cache and took the first aid kit. I applied the red liquid soaked bandages and then passed through the doorway to enter the hallway.

In the red light bathed hallway, I found another Circus of Values vending machine that was in equal disrepair as the previous one. The discarded luggage of passengers littered the floor. In the center of the hallway were abandoned chairs that had been intended to comfort weary travelers as they waited for their train to arrive.

I moved to the center of the long, cavernous space and then I called out for my brother with a low frequency grunt that seemingly vibrated the entire building. I continued my call for nearly an entire minute. Then, I stopped and eagerly waited to see if there was a reply. To my dismay, I failed to detect a reply. Perhaps, he had already moved deeper into the city. A horrifying thought occurred to me. Since Sofia Lamb was out for my death, she might mistake my remaining brethren for me and catch them off guard. After all, the only way to tell us apart aside from our helmets being occasionally made out of different metals were the Greek letters stamped on our hands.

As much as I wanted to stay and tear the building apart in search of my brother, I had a bigger obligation to reach Eleanor. The path to my left was caved in so I had no choice but to proceed towards the train station. As I descended the water covered stairs, I saw an Atlantic Express transit map at the bottom with a Trap Rivet lodged into its bottom right corner and a second one lodged into the tiled floor nearby.

More Trap Rivets? I grew excited. My brother had passed through here. He must have used the train to travel further into the city. If I followed the same line, there was a very good chance that I would locate him during my quest to reach my daughter. As I descended the steps, I heard a male Splicer ramble about "Bettys".

As I reached the landing, I found him banging against the closed window of the furthest ticket booth. His behavior confused me. He was determined to get whatever he thought was inside the booth. Standing behind the rivets, I gave off a grunt to get the Splicer's attention. Crying out in shock, the man wheeled around and then rushed towards me. Upon reaching the Trap Rivets, the man was struck by the secondary rivets. The projectiles ripped into his soft flesh, tearing open his left thigh and right arm to expose the bone beneath.

The determined denizen continued his charge despite his wounds. As he lunged to strike me with his makeshift melee weapon, I sidestepped him to the right. After maneuvering to get behind him, I drove the sharp point of my drill into the back of his skull in the brain stem. The man was dead before he knew what was happening. Ripping my drill out of his corpse, I moved to investigate the ticket booth.

Noticing the call button, I pressed it with my left index finger. The shutter opened to reveal a worn Tenenbaum with three former Little Sisters. One of the girls was leaning against the glass before me and the other two were on the floor playing together. I could not help but smile beneath my copper face at the sight of the two playing together.

Tenenbaum approached me and stood before me on the opposite side of the window. As she raised her left hand to cup the chin of the little girl leaning against the glass, she said, "You see? This is why I must fight Sofia Lamb." She began to pace as she continued, "She is using the new Little Ones...for something...so I have returned to rescue them." She looked back towards me and said, "If I do not, more children will die for my sins...and the Rapture nightmare will repeat forever. Now we must talk of..."

At that moment, I noticed the image of Sofia Lamb on the television monitor behind Tenenbaum. Meanwhile, the little girl touched the aged scientist's left arm to get her attention. Tenenbaum calmly looked down at her with a motherly expression on her face. Silently, the child motioned towards the television monitor with her left hand. Turning around, Tenenbaum saw the image of Sofia Lamb.

Meanwhile, Sofia began to announce, "Attention! Citizens of Rapture!" The image on the monitor changed to show an image of my armored face. She continued, "This is Subject Delta. Behind that mask lies an enemy of the people...without soul or sympathy." The image changed to show one of my gauntlet-encased hands and identifying "Delta" symbol stamped into the top. She finished, "It is a beast apart...and as family, we must tear out its jaw and drive it back into the sea!"

The children began to panic, flooding me with guilt. Meanwhile, Tenenbaum addressed me, "Lamb will take this place apart to find you...please hold back the Splicers until we can escape." In response, I let out a guttural roar as the reflection of red light appeared on the glass surface of the ticket window barrier.

The maddening primal fury of my Protector Instincts erupted inside my mind. They may not have been Little Sisters, but I would be damned before I let the Splicers get anywhere near the innocent little girls. It was time to prove that this old guard dog still had some bite left in him. The gates to the train station opened and I charged through the open path.

In the far right corner was a train car. In the near right corner was a huge opening in the wall that would likely be used by the incoming Splicers. However, there were more Trap Rivets placed near the hole. Whichever of my brothers had left them had apparently had been protecting Tenenbaum and the children. In the seconds that I had, I wondered why he had gone through the trouble only to leave them in the ticket booth. Perhaps, like me, he had urgent business elsewhere and had simply been passing through.

To my left, I saw an aid station, which I quickly destroyed to prevent the Splicers from using it as well as gaining a first aid kit. In the near left corner, I saw a second hole in the wall, but this one had a large pool of water beneath it. The Splicers that came from that way were as good as dead. Upon noticing the Security Camera along the left wall, I rushed over to it and rewired it. Seconds later, the red light coming from the camera changed to green.

Returning to guarding the ways to the ticket booth, I steeled myself for the coming onslaught. They came from the right hole first. I grunted as pistol round impacted my armored hide. Two female "Thuggish" Splicers rushed at me but the Trap Rivets slowed them down enough for me to close the distance. In quick succession, I swung my drill into their disfigured faces and within seconds, they had crumpled to the ground.

Focusing my attention on the "Leadhead" Splicer, I swung my drill sideways and disarmed the woman as she lost her grip on the flimsy revolver, which flew off to the right somewhere. Before she could react, I followed up with an uppercut in the base of her jaw. The strike lifted her off the ground about a foot straight up into air. When she fell onto the ground, I sent the point of my drill into the brain stem of her prostrate form.

An explosion off to my left drew my attention. A wave of Splicers appeared in the left hole. Focusing, I sent a blast of Electro Bolt into the pool of water beneath the entrance. The oblivious denizens jumped into the electrified water and were immediately racked with blue electric arcs. Seconds later, they succumbed to the trap and collapsed into the pool of water. As more continued to charge out of the opening, I sent another blast of Electro Bolt into the pool. The single-mindedness of my assailants proved disastrous, for them, as my simple trick completely annihilated the incoming wave of Splicers. Moments later, it was all over.

I felt my anger dissipate as Tenenbaum contacted me through my radio. Her voice was full of gratitude as she said, "Thank you. Now...I must leave you, and I am sorry for this. But there are others that I must help before the city drowns. This man-Sinclair...he is an ally, and will guide you to Eleanor. Goodbye Herr Delta...and good luck."

Seconds later, a man with a noticeable Southern drawl in his voice addressed me, "Well look at you...a bona fide knight in armor-complete with iron horse. The name's Augustus Sinclair, sport. Esquire." Sinclair? The owner of Persephone and Sinclair Solutions? The man that had "rented me out" to Fontaine's butchers? As far as allies went, I had to admit that Sinclair was an interesting complication.

My old warden continued, "Ol' Tenenbaum and I share an interest in the old Fontaine buildin'-the very same place you'll find Eleanor Lamb." I mentally sighed in frustration. Apparently everyone in Rapture, except me, had known where to find my beautiful Eleanor. Sinclair continued, "I think you an' I can do business. Take the train to Ryan Amusements...I'll see you shortly."

With that, my radio deactivated. I gave off a low, long-winded grunt of frustration. I just wanted to get to Eleanor! Not babysit some opportunistic businessman that would likely stab me in the back the second that it became profitable. Tenenbaum and the girls were one thing but this man was something else. He had already sold me out once for a profit.

However, after thinking for a moment, I realized that I was now in a very advantageous position. He needed me. He certainly could not muscle his way through Lamb's followers. No, he would need me for that. As long as he had Sofia Lamb to worry about, he would need a monster like me to be his muscle. Meanwhile, as much as I hated to admit it, I was just a skull thumper. I certainly did not know any secrets to getting around this fallen city. Sinclair, however, seemed to know all kinds of secrets about Rapture.

This "partnership" would benefit the both of us. Once I was with Eleanor, Sinclair would be on his own, but, knowing him, he already had an escape plan. Once we got what we wanted, we would go our separate ways. In the meantime, however, I would need to watch my back around him. Sofia might try to buy him out and Sinclair only cared about himself. I would have to watch him and hope that he was not foolish enough to believe that Sofia would let him leave the city alive.

After searching the train station for supplies, I boarded the train car. Upon entering the streamlined underwater tram, I found that the right window of the cabin was missing. I grunted in annoyance as I realized that I was going to have to be submerged inside the cabin of the train while it traveled to its destination. Was it so much to ask to stay out of the frigid Atlantic water? I was a Big Daddy but that water was cold. After throwing a little tantrum, I calmed myself and pulled the lever to activate the train.

The watertight double doors beside me closed and sealed shut. Then, the bulkhead in front of the train opened and the tram began to inch forward into the icy water. As the water level reached the windowless hole, I grunted a distorted curse word. Seconds later, the cabin was submerged as I was once again surrounded by the frigid waters of the Atlantic.


	5. Chapter 5: Eleanor's will

Ch. 5: Eleanor's will

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry about the wait. I was distracted by other things.

Anyway,

I did not realize that it was going to be this long of a chapter. I have a problem, I'm sorry. I like writing too much.

Right...so, we see Delta face his first Mass Production Big Daddy.

I will have the bonding time in the next chapter. I decided that Eleanor should play a bigger part in the story instead of the minor parts until the very end of the canon story.

As I said, this is AU.

Oh, before I forget, thank you to all who have been supportive! I appreciate it! I am just happy that people remember poor Delta, Eleanor, and their story.

Read and review if you want.

* * *

Passing through the tombstone-like buildings of the decayed city in the submerged cabin of the train, I leaned against the side of the greenish interior of the vehicle with my right shoulder as I listened to the rhythmic thumping of the tram as it made its way along the uneven sections of track.

I reflected on the events that had transpired so far. I had died sometime around ten years prior. My bonded Little Sister, Eleanor, had been growing up in the care of her mother ever since that night. During that time, something had happened in Rapture. The majority of the city outside the train appeared to be in severe disrepair. As far as I could tell, the majority of the Little Sisters had been lost during the event and their protectors' corpses now rotted away in the flooding hallways of the war-torn metropolis. Andrew Ryan was dead. Sofia Lamb had taken control of the city.

The only reason that the city was still "alive" was because of the Rosie Big Daddies and their tireless maintenance work. Sofia had kidnapped new girls from the surface and created a new generation of Little Sisters for some unknown reason that somehow involved "paradise". The surviving generation of original Little Sisters had been turned into powerful, lithe, armored creatures called Big Sisters. The arms race in Rapture had brought a new model of Big Daddy into existence but it was an abysmal failure as far as I was concerned.

The fate of my brethren remained a mystery. I had come across evidence that at least one of my brothers was still alive. We had been abandoned by the city even before I was killed. "Impractical", they called us. The loss of their bonded daughters proved too much for those of my kind that had lived beyond the incident. In truth, an Alpha Series living beyond his bonded sister was rare in my time. We protected our daughters with our lives. In the rare cases that the protector was alive after the incident, however, the result was disturbing to witness.

I shivered as I thought of the fate I would face should I fail to get to Eleanor in time. Coma was a beautiful thought but I knew better. My instinctive drive to find Eleanor would drive me to madness for which death was the only solution. I only had a few hours left and I was still nowhere near Fontaine Futuristics.

Eleanor's beautiful face filled my mind as I peered out the windowless opening at the city going past me. Her marble-like skin, deep blue eyes, innocent face, and cute accent were enough to make anyone fall under her spell. She was rotting away in this place. I had to get her far away from here before it was too late.

I looked at my reflection in the surface of the left glass sheet. Subject Delta returned my glance. This monster was her only friend? Perhaps, I was already too late. My daze was interrupted by the familiar feeling of bliss. Eleanor's enchanting voice echoed through my resting form as she said, "Father, please do not think such things. You are not a monster."

I replied with an unenthusiastic grunt. Eleanor sighed before she said, "Father, we have been through this before. Just because they put you in this suit doesn't mean that it is who you are."

I let off a flat grunt before giving her a quizzical groan. She giggled before she said, "We are speaking through our link, Father. You can speak words."

Mentally face palming, I replied with a gruff voice, "Sorry kid, I forgot."

Eleanor huffed before she said, "I'm not a kid anymore, Topside."

I laughed dryly for a moment and then said, "Right...sorry. Eleanor...I..."

My daughter interrupted me as she assured me, "No, that was not your fault. Do not blame yourself for what happened Father. I certainly do not."

I asked, "Eleanor, why did you bring me back?"

Hurt filled her voice as she replied, "Father, you have no idea how much I have needed you all these years. Before Mother found a way to remove my conditioning, every moment was a nightmare. The happy world was gone and it would not come back. I was so scared...the only thing that allowed me to get through the day was to pretend that I was you. I thought that you would have wanted to be with me again..."

Alarmed, I assured her, "No, no, no. Sweetie please don't cry. Of course, I want to be with you again. Sorry kid, this is just all a bit much for me...please calm down...I didn't mean to upset you."

After a moment, she recomposed herself and said, "I'm sorry, Father. I'm just a little on edge right now."

I gave off an understanding grunt in response. As the tram passed by one of the many clear tunnels in Rapture, I observed a Rosie following behind a skipping Little Sister. Knowing what I was looking at due to our link, Eleanor said, "Father, you know that you need ADAM..."

I interrupted, "Yes, my little one. I know."

After a moment, she informed me, "Mother controls the ADAM, Father. To get it, you will have to deal with the new Little Sisters directly. By now, I think you have realized that they are made from me. Mother needed them but the process to create them was lost in the years following the Civil War. So, the new sisters are made from me, in part. I can feel them...they can feel me. However, I know how much you need their ADAM so I will let you decide how to deal with them."

I said, "I am not a cruel man, Eleanor. You know that. I will rescue them."

Curious, she asked, "How?"

I smirked slightly beneath my face before I assured her, "Leave that to me." Then, remembering my unknown brother from the train station, I asked, "Eleanor, at the train station, I encountered signs that another Alpha Series had traveled through there before me. Do you know anything about that?"

She was silent for a moment as if she was deciding how to word her response. I felt a wave of dread wash over me. I knew that my brethren would likely be in a bad way, but I refused to accept that all of them were otherwise incapacitated. After all, there were twenty-three of us. Surely, there would be survivors. Finally, she replied, "Father...I am so sorry...but...the only ones that I know of are...you and Sigma. Tenenbaum has Sigma doing something else for her but I can assure you that he is nowhere near you."

I grunted stubbornly. I knew what I had seen. There was another Alpha Series out there that was sane enough to be tactical. Eleanor thought for a moment before she informed me, "Well...there is...him...but it is very unlikely that he is still alive." I gave off an inquisitive grunt.

She explained, "You see, Tenenbaum returned to Rapture because little girls were being kidnapped near the sea. While she managed to rescue a few on her own, she realized that, alone, she could not stop Mother. Around that time, I made contact with her through the new Little Sisters. We have been planning on how to thwart Mother's plans ever since. We both agreed that we needed help against Mother and these fools that she has under her spell. Not only would the individual need to be strong enough to fight through the Splicers but they would also have to be a match for the Big Sisters and Big Daddies."

I asked, "You mean, strong enough to disrupt Sofia's ADAM supply line?"

She replied, "Yes, Father. Tenenbaum wishes to end the Rapture nightmare forever and I wish to escape and see the Sun. So, our goals are on the same path. We needed help from someone that would be strong enough to fight for us. There was only one person that I could think of: you."

Shocked, I remarked, "Me?! Appreciate the flattery, kid, but I am an old man for Christ's sake."

My beautiful Eleanor said, "Nonsense, Father. You are not as old as you think you are. Besides, you are Subject Delta, the strongest Big Daddy in the history of Rapture! We found your body and took gene samples. Tenenbaum removed your Protector Instincts and I worked out how to rig one of the Vita-Chambers to seek your signature. The Thinker in Minerva's Den helped too. Well, here you are."

I corrected her, "My instincts were only dormant. Not to worry, I reactivated them."

Eleanor was silent for a minute before she asked, "You...you...but...why? You could have been a free man, Father. Why?"

I replied, "I would do anything to protect you, Eleanor. If it means losing my freewill to keep you safe, then it is a small price to pay."

Through our bond, I could feel her blushing as she said, "F-Father..."

I assured her, "My beautiful daughter, I don't care what happens to me as long as you are safe and happy. Whatever you want me to do, I will do it no questions asked."

Eleanor replied, "I want you to reach me and take me to the surface just like how we always talked about doing, Father. I want to see it all...Paris, New York, London, and all those places."

I smiled beneath my armored face as I assured her, "You will, sweetie. I promise. Now, you were saying something about him?"

She continued, "Yes, Father. You see, until we could find a way to bring you back, we needed a friendly Big Daddy to protect Tenenbaum's Little Sisters so that they could bring her enough ADAM to mold your genetic structure as well as to keep it out of Mother's hands. There was still an Alpha Series that was in hibernation. Tenenbaum reactivated him and he spent about a month collecting enough ADAM for her to work with. At first, we only had him gather small amounts at a time so that Mother would not catch on to what was going on. However, she noticed the missing Little Sisters and began to watch the city like a hawk. We had no choice but to have him collect more ADAM each time. Mother thought that he was simply a rogue and merely sent her Splicers after him. Eventually, he had gathered enough and Tenenbaum was able to finish her work with your gene sample. Meanwhile, I had finished tinkering with one of the Vita-Chambers. Because of him, Father, you are now alive once more."

I asked, "So, where is he now?"

She replied, "I...he...I am not sure. See, Mother finally decided upon a more drastic measure. She sent a Big Sister after him. I have not heard any word from Tenenbaum since then. If it was him that had placed those rivets, then she has not told me that he is still alive. She probably did not think that it was relevant."

I asked, "Which Alpha Series is he?"

She replied, "I actually don't know. He didn't have a symbol like you do, Father."

Confusion hit me. Did not have a symbol? That was unusual to say the least. Every Alpha Series received a mark, even those that were not bonded to a daughter. Perhaps, the protector had received one, only for the mark to be erased by a combination of the conditions of his hibernation tank and time.

However, as much as I wanted to locate my wayward brother, I had more pressing concerns at the moment. I could see the silhouette of Ryan Amusements getting closer. I would undoubtedly encounter a Big Daddy and Little Sister within the theme park's walls. As much as I despised the disgusting hulking brutes, I was unable to offensively attack them due to my programming. So, for the moment, this old dog was chained.

I said to my bonded sister, "Eleanor, to get to the Little Sisters..."

My daughter interrupted me by saying, "Ah yes, the _tin men_, as you call them. I am sorry to throw you into harm's way like this Father, but we have to get the Little Sisters away from Mother...one way or another. Every drop of ADAM that gets to Mother only causes me more pain."

Alarmed, I let out a concerned grunt. She continued, "There isn't enough time to explain everything right now. However, know that the ADAM from those Little Sisters is causing me pain."

When she spoke again, her voice was different. Her tone was frighteningly cold and authoritative while all traces of warmth were gone. Yet, as she spoke, I felt nothing other than the desire to serve her unerringly. My freewill evaporated and I memorized her every word so as to follow her orders to the letter. My master commanded me with her icy tone, "Father, I am ordering you to disregard your combat constraints. From this point on, all that matters to you is my will. Do you understand Delta?"

I grunted in acknowledgement. However, she demanded, "Say it."

I replied through our link with a flat, deadpan tone, "I understand, Eleanor."

Satisfied, she informed me with her usual warm voice, "Oh, Father, you have no idea how...maddening ...it has been these past ten years. To have to...endure...being near these animals of Mother's flock. To have to listen to them ostracize you, my knight in shining armor: the strongest, bravest person that I have ever known and the man that I love, as a coward, a kidnapper of children, and a monster that defiled me. This is my will Father: make them remember, make them _all _remember...remember the man from the surface...the mighty Subject Delta: paragon of the Alpha Series. Make them remember you, Father. Make them remember the kind of man that you are."

I assured her, "I will, Eleanor." Her presence left my mind and seconds later, the watertight bulkhead for the train lowered to allow the train car to enter the building for Ryan Amusements. As I pushed myself upright to face forward, I noticed damage to the original power lines running from the rest of the city to the building. It looked like they had suffered severe damage during a possible firefight and then some time later, someone had attempted to repair them only to realize that they did not have the necessary parts so they simply ran new lines to jerry rig power to the building.

I cringed at the sight. Without the main power line pumping juice into the structure, the building would have sealed itself due to standard security measures designed to prevent the building from flooding. The builders had designed the measures under the pretext that the lockdown would last, at most, a few days or even a week. By then, the belief was that the Rosies would have repaired the structural damage and restored power to the building, thus, freeing those trapped inside.

However, the damage that I saw looked old and the repairs looked relatively new. I gave off a low-pitch groan as I imagined those trapped within the building slowly starving to death over a period of weeks waiting for help that would never come. No, I corrected myself, starvation would not be what finally claimed the survivors.

In a sick joke, the main threat in surviving a place like Rapture was actually hydration. Surrounded by water, and one of the most cherished substances in the city, second only to ADAM, was fresh water. What would have claimed the survivors long before starvation was dehydration. Even Splicers required the life giving substance. Only Big Daddies, Little Sisters, and now, I assumed, the Big Sisters did not physically require the substance to live any more than we needed food. The only thing we needed was ADAM.

Any protectors and gatherers present when the power was cut likely did not even notice beyond the protector having to drive back the panicked mobs. After their gathering session, they would have left the building, the Big Daddies through the airlocks and the Little Sisters through the vents.

As the train car surfaced at the station, I mentally cried out in relief as the relatively warmer air of the amusement park replaced the frigid waters that had been surrounding me moments prior. The layer of frost that had grown over my leather, canvas, and copper hide began to melt. As the train pulled into the station, I realized that the watertight bulkhead that allowed further access into the city was frozen over by enormous ice sheets. The train would be cut to ribbons! Acting quickly, I began to apply the brakes.

As I did, the voice of Sinclair piped through my built-in radio as he advised me, "Whoa there, now, better apply the brakes unless you're aimin' to dash yourself against that glacier up ahead." Seconds later, as the front of the train approached the ice, the brakes squealed and the train car came to a halt.

The double doors of the forward car opened. With blue electrical arcs dancing around my left hand and my drill at the ready over my right hand, I turned to my left and then started to disembark the train. As I did, Sinclair informed me, "As you can see chief, the station is iced over. To reach Eleanor at Fountain Headquarters, we'll need to clear the way. Now, in order to melt that ice, you'll need a plasmid like a handful o' hellfire."

By then, I had exited the train and was searching the station for supplies. Meanwhile, Sinclair continued, "We used to sell a fine old product called Incinerate! in the theme park up yonder. Go on an' find a way in—I've already been on all the rides."

Unsure about how to react to his strange sense of humor, I merely grunted in response. Examining the frozen bulkhead, I discovered that the cause of the ice was a ruptured water pipe. Since the pipes were unheated, a ruptured one would eject frigid water that frozen against any surface that it touched. I would not be able to brute force my way through it, even with my drill whirling at full throttle because the pipe would simply refreeze ice over it, possibly even entombing my drill beneath the new layers of ice.

With no alternative, I turned back to face towards the security door that led further into the building. However, as I passed the ticket boot to the right of the station, I noticed an EVE Hypo in the window. Deciding to make the quick detour, I entered the booth and used my Telekinesis to levitate the needle and then inject the substance into my IV port.

I shivered as the cold substance traveled through my body while the excess went into my EVE tank. Exiting the booth, I noticed the train schedule reporting display in the middle of the walkway just beyond the metal grated floor of the station. According to the schedule, the Atlantic Express was on its last legs. The only line that was still operational was the one that I was currently traveling along, and thanks to the ice now built up along the bulkhead, it was nonoperational.

I mentally sighed in disappointment. That meant that my chances of running into my brother here were nearly zero because if he had used the train, there would be a second train car in the station. Moving past the schedule display, I walked through the puddle of oil as I proceeded towards the metal security door.

The greenish, oxidized door had the name "Atlantic Express" on it. As I neared it, the watertight obstacle raised up to open as the sound of metal grinding filled the air of the station. Moving through the opening, I came to a large flight of stairs. At the top of the landing, I found what looked like the makeshift home of a Splicer next to a Vita-Chamber.

The Splicer's living area was constructed out of a large, flat shipping crate for the far wall, the remains of a wooden bench for the other wall, a canopy/roof constructed out of some kind of cloth, and a mattress for the flooring. On top of the mattress, I noticed an unopened can of beans and an open suitcase that had a sealed thermos of what was likely coffee sticking out of it. Candles lit dangerously close to the cloth canopy provided what little illumination and warmth that they could for the missing occupant.

Moving past the dwelling, I noticed a handwritten message painted on the wall with white house paint. It read, "We are but STONES to pave the WAY." I grunted in irritation. More altruist ramblings? There was a fine line between devotion and fanaticism.

The thought returned me to Eleanor. I loved her, but I was afraid that she did not really love me as she claimed. She may even think that she loved me. However, I was worried that she instead loved the "idea" of me. It was perfectly normal for a girl her age to want a male figure that they could see as the ideal for a mate. In other words, I represented what she wanted in a companion and in the years that I had been absent, she had built up an imaginary relationship between us inside her mind.

After all, our time together was short, not even a year. I never met Sofia before that night that she made me kill myself, but Eleanor convinced her mother to "sponsor" me in Dionysus Park to prevent Ryan and his men from being able to arrest me. The woman was brilliant. She sold me to the Rapture public as a hero and I gained enough of a celebrity status that they dismissed Ryan's outcries that I was a government agent.

As time went on, Eleanor grew attached to me. I guess I was everything that she wanted in a "Father Figure". I became a kind of surrogate father for her. Of course, this alienated Sofia's support of me as she had never wanted her daughter to have a father. Luckily, by then, Ryan had lost most of his interest in me as more pressing issues like Fontaine demanded more of his attention. Because of Ryan's discontinued interest in me, I was able to live in Rapture with Eleanor even without Sofia's sponsorship. However, certain events soon unfolded that led to our separation as well as putting us on the path to become what we were now.

By then, I had reached the main entrance to the park. On the wall before me, I saw another candle shrine with a piece of artwork that resembled a man with a butterfly for a head rising up like he was being raptured. Above the painting was the message, "WE WILL BE REBORN". Below the painting was the message, "She is OUR SALVATION". I wondered who it was that they were referring to, Sofia or Eleanor. I decided that it was likely Sofia that they were referring to.

Turning to my left, I saw another busted pipe that had amassed a large chunk of ice inside a pool of water. At the far end of the remaining path, I saw a Circus of Values vending machine. I did a quick mental calculation and decided that my tank reserves were near maximum capacity so I had no reason to stop. Instead, I turned to my right before I reached the machine to enter the room with the entrance to the park.

As I moved into the room, a Leadhead Splicer suddenly appeared standing on top of the remains of the clock tower in the center of the space. The man was wielding a Webley Mk IV Revolver and had a welding mask to cover his face. When he saw me, he cried out, "Clown, fucking clown!" The madman went to jump down from the pedestal-like piece of rubble that he was standing on. However, I electrocuted him with a blast of Electro Bolt and he fell backwards onto the hard, tiled floor.

Closing the gap, I rushed forward around the left side of the rubble. As I rounded the corner of the debris, I found him getting to his feet. Just before I was within striking range, he fired his revolver. I growled as the agony shoot through my body. Before he could fire another round, I swung my drill's razor sharp point into his face. The thin welding mask offered little protection and my drill's point easily penetrated the thin obstacle to crack open the man's skull.

To my amazement, the man side stepped me before I could deliver the final blow. The mask fell to the ground to reveal the horribly disfigured face of the Splicer. My blow had ripped open the front of his face to reveal the brain beneath. However, the man raised his revolver to fire again. Distracted by the obvious threat of my drill, the man failed to see my enormous gauntlet-encased left hand before I grabbed him around his neck.

Before he could fight back, I crushed his neck into powder with my hand by tightening my grip. Tossing the limp figure aside, I began to make my way towards the nearby gated entrance to the park. However, when I neared the brass plated entrance, an automated voice of a man announced, "Welcome to Ryan Amusements, insert your ticket now. Half-priced for children under three."

I mentally cursed. I would have to find a ticket in order to gain access to the park and the Incinerate! plasmid. Turning back, I noticed the advertisements for the El Dorado Lounge, the Park itself, and the Atlantic Express along the wall to my right. Beyond them, on the right, I saw the ticket purchase counters. If there was still a ticket to be found in this place, that would be the only place that they would be. It would be a miracle for a piece of paper to be intact after all this time.

Entering the area behind the ticket counters, I found that it was actually the Security Wing of the building, as indicated by the large yellow neon sign on the wall above the cabinets just after the left turn into the area behind the counters that read, "SECUIRTY MONITORING ROOM".

My radio activated as I entered the room. Sinclair informed me, "You're a rare old model son, -'Alpha Series', I believe. Now Rapture is full of scientific wonderments just like you and if we can sell 'em to the world at my price, curin' your condition ought to be a cakewalk. Once we find Eleanor...the sky is the limit."

So, that was his game? Collect samples of Rapture's unique products and then sell them to the world? No, that was too simple for old Sinclair. I was certain that he was working some other angle. People could call him whatever they wanted, but the man was as brilliant as they came. He did not have to be ruthless in his business like Ryan and Fontaine. He was so clever and good with people that he was able to escape public spotlight while making money just as hard and fast as he could. He was Andrew Ryan without the need for attention.

If he was planning to do something with Eleanor, I would break his neck! He might have been able to silver tongue his way with other people, but I was not a fool. My condition was irreversible. Once ADAM touched someone, there was no going back. Subject Delta may have appeared human on the outside, but the man beneath my façade was a monster; a freak of nature twisted by ADAM until it was unrecognizable. The surface would never accept me.

Of course, if Sinclair sold the genetic products of Rapture to the world, then the world would be consumed by the desire for ADAM just as Rapture had. No! No! I could not let that happen! The inhabitants of the surface world were Hell bent on destroying each other. If they got their hands on plasmids, it would be an Apocalypse on a biblical scale.

For now, however, I would have to play along with Sinclair. Continuing through the room, I scavenged through the desks and filing cabinets for supplies. Thanks to the cash register behind the ticket counter, I found enough money to give me a new total of two-hundred and thirty dollars. I proceeded to the corridor beyond the room. There, against the far left wall, was a secured arsenal of weapons.

Among them, I saw an unmodified machine gun that was used by my brethren. Curiosity hit me as to why it was here. No normal individual, Splicer or otherwise, could lift the heavy metal weapon. It was a Gatling design with four rotating barrels that were usually reinforced and had a compensator on the end to reduce recoil when my brethren possessed them. Chambered for .50 BMG rounds, the belt-fed machine guns were potent weapons that were useful at all ranges against any enemy. Even Big Daddies were vulnerable to the .50 BMG rounds, though the machine guns' slow fire rate kept them from being perfect weapons as the cramped confines of Rapture allowed experienced combatants to find ways out of the line of fire.

Turning away from the Security Inventory, I looked down the corridor. I grunted in excitement when I saw the Power to the People machine against the far wall. Rushing towards it, I began to decide upon how I would modify my drill. By the time that I had reached the green-lighted device that indicated with a sign that it was "Open for business", I had decided that I needed to increase the damage output of my drill. I was not an engineer, but, as I had been working with my hands since I was old enough to work, I knew that the drill needed augers to increase its power.

Moments later, my newly upgraded drill with large augers running uniformly around its round exterior just above the bit glistened menacingly in the soft blue light coming in through the glass window against the far wall. I laughed in repeated grunts as I briefly revved up my drill. Its thunderous roar filled the silent air of the area with noticeably increased fervor and torque. Unfortunately, the Power to the People machines were only useful for one upgrade. No matter, my upgraded heavy-duty industrial tool was now more than a match for the Elite Bouncers' precious drills with their fancy harpoon-like blades.

Moving downstairs past yet another Vita-Chamber, I came to a workshop. At the other end of the small workshop, I saw a locked security door. Beyond the door, through the cracked glass, I saw the door's electrical panel against the wall. The cracked glass had a hole that was just big enough for me to send a blast of Electro Bolt into the panel. Just like it had against the door in the train depot, my blast overrode the locking mechanism and the door opened.

Moving through the threshold of the unlocked security bulkhead, I froze as I heard the strange, almost robotic sounding voice of a Little Sister as she declared happily, "I'm a good girl Mr. B." My Protector Instincts surged in my mind as they waited for the queue to activate. Moving forward in a kind of trance, I came to a large window. Beyond it, I saw the little girl gathering from the corpse of a male Splicer. There was another man sitting perfectly still behind a desk up against the wall. I quickly realized that it was one of the park's automatons and returned my gaze to the red dressed child.

As I reached the window, I heard a Bouncer Big Daddy growl at her. I scowled beneath my armored face. What's wrong tin man? Got somewhere to be? The girl finishes when she damn well pleases, not when it conveniences you! Bullies! All of them! The Mass Produced Big Daddies were unfit protectors. They only cared about their charges when they were in danger. Otherwise, they pushed the poor little girls around like cowboys on a cattle drive.

I emitted a low-frequency call that her protector would not hear. The deathly pale brunette girl looked in my direction with her glowing yellow eyes. She must have seen me because, for a moment, she gave me a pleading expression before she hesitantly stood and left the corpse as she returned to the Bouncer as he swung his permanently attached drill and continued to call out to her in an irritated manner.

My Protector Instincts throbbed inside my head like a severe headache even after the pair's shadows disappeared from view. Why did the city favor those palookas? WHY? My kind loved our sisters! Those tin men treated them like garbage! I was going to put them back in their place!

Turning to my left, I saw a ticket on top of a copy of Sofia's book on a desk against the far wall. After retrieving the miraculously intact item, I began to exit the workshop. As I did, Sinclair said approvingly, "Jim Dandy. That'll get you in the park. But buyin' Incinerate's gonna cost ADAM. It's sort of a genetic goo that lets you rewrite whatever God gave ya. The Little Sisters carry the stuff, as you may recall-so you'll have to locate one. I heard whisperin' near the El Dorado Lounge. Have a look."

I groaned in irritation. How clueless did these people think I was? Just because I was old, that did not mean ol' Subject Delta was slipping. Besides, some of the Mass Produced Big Daddies were older than I was. Especially some of the Rosies, since their main goal was to maintain Rapture and so they were rarely assigned as protectors. No matter, I would continue to play innocent for them.

By then, I had returned upstairs. As I exited the room with the Power to the People machine, I saw that the Security Inventory had been broken into. The machine gun was gone and a Prototype Rivet Gun was leaning against the broken security glass. I saw that the weapon's exterior was severely damaged and a broken tip of a Big Sister's needle-like weapon was sticking out of the side of it. While it was likely operational, the prospect of getting an undamaged machine gun had probably enticed my brother to forcibly gain access to it. I felt a new wave of excitement. My unidentified brother had been here. However, he had likely already moved on.

One of Ryan's old security guards was examining the inventory by hitting the already compromised glass with his baton. The man muttered to himself about God and other things. He was so distracted that I was able to get within striking distance without him knowing that I was there. Just as I was about to pounce on him, the Thuggish Splicer wheeled around. Swing my drill, I struck the man across his wrinkled face. My blow staggered the man and before he could recover, I struck him again, this time completely cracking open his skull.

The Splicer collapsed in a heap onto the floor. Returning my gaze to the abandoned rivet gun, I studied it for a clue to its owner's identity. My brethren all customized their weapons a different way. As such, we could tell each others tools apart. Unfortunately, the prototype was so damaged that I could not observe any telltale marks that would have allowed me to identify the wielder. Groaning in frustration, I continued forward.

As I approached the exit of the Security Wing, I heard a man yell, "Listen up choppers! Get yourself hid. No fuck-ups this time!" I idly wondered if the Splicers were aware of the fact that ambushes tended to work the best when the participants did not announce their presence at maximum volume as I exited the wing.

Upon moving into the main entrance room, I saw three people scurrying to find cover as the same man yelled, "Daddy's home! Take aim! Fire!" The Leadhead Splicers began to fire their revolvers at me. I growled as the .38 caliber rounds impacted my form. Ignoring the pain, I rushed forward towards the nearest Splicer. It was a disfigured woman wearing tattered aristocratic attire. She was out in the open underneath the overhang of the main entrance.

As I neared her, I electrocuted her with a shot of Electro Bolt. As she cried out in agony while blue electrical arcs danced around her body, I swung the razor sharp tip of my drill into the side of her skull. As she began to crumble to the ground, I used Telekinesis to levitate her body out in front of my. Using the corpse as a shield, I moved towards the remaining Splicers in relative safety.

A Thuggish Splicer wielding a baton got between me and the levitating body. After I quickly dispatching the addict, I reoriented my shield to absorb the incoming rounds from three Leadhead Splicers. I rushed forward towards them. Seconds later, I had closed the distance. I took aim at the men and launching the bullet riddled remains of the woman. The corpse hit the men and they fell to the ground like bowling pins. While they struggled to stand, I quickly terminated them by stomping down on their skulls with my heavy, armored right foot.

I would need to find a first aid kit, as the fight had slightly drained my reserve tank. However, thanks to my use of the corpse as a shield, it was not an urgent issue. Returning to the entrance, I inserted the ticket into the slot on the machine just beside the ornate security bulkhead. The door rose up to allow me entrance.

As I proceeded into the park, I noticed a model of Rapture's silhouette on the far end of the pathway. As I approached it, suddenly, light illuminated a pedestal with the mannequin of a woman motioning towards it as confetti shoot up into the air. Music started playing as a gene tonic vial rose up out of the pedestal. Then, the recorded voice of the big man himself played over the loudspeaker system, "Greetings, my name is Andrew Ryan. Welcome to Ryan Amusements. Please enjoy the park."

The loudspeaker system continued playing the song of the park, though, occasionally, the unmaintained speakers garbled the sound. After I injected the tonic into my IV port on my left arm, I felt the muscles in my leg tighten while my joints loosened up. Sport's Boost, I realized. I laughed slightly as I thought, 'This Alpha Series just got even more agile.' Looking back down at the pedestal, I noticed a sign that said, "FREE SAMPLE! Get more at The Hall of the Future." So, the Gather's Garden machine was in the Hall of the Future? I would have to go there once I managed to find some ADAM.

Turning left, I walked towards the main part of the park. Having gathered with Eleanor here, I knew its layout. Turning right at the Vita-Chamber, I faced the main crossroads of the park. To the left on the floor that I was on must have been the Hall of the Future. To the right across the bridge was the gift shop. At the back was the corridor to the El Dorado Lounge. Downstairs at the very back was the entrance to the propaganda machine called "Journey to the Surface".

I remembered poor Eleanor being so frightened by the exaggerated sights and sounds along the propaganda machine that she could not continue her gathering, since she was in her artificial wonderland until that moment, until she saw me rev my drill and kept its thunderous motor running. It cost me an entire tank of fuel, which was not cheap to refill, but it was worth it to keep her healthy.

Moving towards the lounge, I ignored the displays that informed people of the history of Rapture. I had already heard them, several times, thanks to my curious daughter. My throbbing Protector Instincts demanded my attention so I became disinterested in the specifics of my surrounds as I made my way towards the lounge.

As I approached the entrance to the corridor that went to the restaurant, I saw a golf ball roll from the other end of the corridor. A woman called out, "Boy, help me find this scoundrel." Moments later, a female Thuggish Splicer wielding a golf club appeared as she went to retrieve the ball. After dispatching the woman, I continued towards the lounge.

I proceeded through the threshold of the security gate. There, in the path towards the lounge, I saw another red wagon with a jar of fireflies down by its back left wheel. In the wagon, I saw a vial of a gene tonic and another object. On the floor in front of the wagon, I saw the message, "Hope this helps" written in chalk. I began to approach it, but, once again, the feeling of bliss overwhelmed me. However, this time, I could still move and I made my way over to the wagon.

As my the edges of my vision became pink, Eleanor's enchanting voice filled me as she said through our bond, "Until you arrive Father, I'm trapped here—smuggling these gifts out is the most I can do to help..." Before I could respond, the feeling vanished as well as the pink edges around my vision.

Now that I was before the wagon, I was able to see that there was a drawing of myself on the floor and I was accepting a present from a Little Sister. I smiled slightly beneath my emotionless copper face as I looked at the chalk drawing. I briefly wondered if it was normal for a parent to be more affected by the little personal things that their children did for them than the big things.

I injected the tonic into my IV port and grunted slightly from discomfort as I felt the fibers of my arm muscles rip and then heal what felt like hundreds of times. Finally, the sensation ceased and I noticed that my drill felt incredibly lightweight though I could still feel it give me resistance when I moved my right arm. Though it might have been my imagination, I also noticed that the canvas skin of my arms was now bulging as if the muscle beneath had become more defined.

I was puzzled for a moment. I already had all the available tonics from the series called "Wrench Jockey". Perhaps, Eleanor had gained access to some powerful prototype tonics meant for Big Daddies. Contrary to popular belief, the real source of the Mass Produced Big Daddies' strength was not from their own bodies but from the life support systems on the exterior of their suits. However, like the rest of my kind, my strength came from my own body.

I had heard of a prototype line of tonics that were intended for the Bouncers before the scientists at Point Prometheus decided to go with the life support systems. What was it called? Drill Power, that was it was called. I had always thought that it was just an "office rumor" that such a tonic line existed. However, I realized, not only did the series exist, but also Eleanor had gained access to it. I smirked, as I was now just as strong as the standard Bouncer. I would need the advanced version to match the Elite Bouncer, but, for now, I was ecstatic that I was just as strong as the smug Bouncers were.

I was about to proceed into the lounge when I noticed that the second object was actually an Accu-Vox recorder. If Eleanor had gone through the effort of smuggling this to me, then it was definitely worth the time to listen to it. I bent down and pressed the play button. Seconds later, the voice of Sofia Lamb began, "In ethical psychiatry, we must..."

However, the recording became garbled for a moment. Then, I heard Eleanor's voice from when she was a child as she giggled before she said, "Eleanor Lamb speaking. Mum says I am not to play with the other children, because..." Her voice deepened as she mimicked her mother, "...they're being raised on a diet of dog eat dog." Her voice changed back to normal when she continued, "I wanted to see these dog-eaters...so I waited until Mum was gone...and went out to find one...and guess what? The dog eaters wear human skin...makes them look just like us!"

The recording ended. I mentally sighed. That had been the Eleanor that I had first met: the naïve, sheltered little girl that had been locked away from the rest of Rapture by her mother. She was brilliant just like her mother, but, even with her rebellious nature, she was stunted when it came to people skills.

I suppose that is what she had desired to learn from me before she had grown attached to me: my people skills. I was charming when I had to be because of my military experience, but, otherwise, I was crude in my dealings with people like every other working class stiff. It was not that I purposely used crude language around her, just sometimes, as when I was helping to maintain the infrastructure of Dionysus Park as my way of making it up to Sofia for putting herself on the line with Ryan, some things just escaped my censor.

Unfortunately, since in Eleanor's mind I "could do no wrong", she picked up a few less desirable phrases from me that no little girl should have known. I tried to correct her when I realized that she, like most children, was a walking recording device, but, by then, the damage had been done.

To my surprise, her new tomboyish demeanor was more sociably acceptable in Rapture than the uptight, aristocratic demeanor that her mother had instilled into her since the majority of the populous was working class. The workers of Rapture even found it charming that such a little girl acted tough just like I, the weathered navy diver, did. Of course, Sofia did her best to "reprogram" Eleanor but the little girl's heart was set on being just like me.

Moving forward, I made my way towards the lounge. As I entered the lounge, I caught Eleanor's scent in the air. My mind became razor sharp as I hacked the convenient Security Bot on the floor near the entrance. Meanwhile, the Bouncer was giving off its long-winded whale calls that echoed through the air of the lounge.

I made my way around the bar and, turning the corner, there, on the stage at the far end of the lounge underneath the yellow neon sign of "El Dorado Lounge", was the Big Daddy and the Little Sister. I was unable to smell anything other than the scent of the Little Sister but I knew that anyone else would be gagging from the awful stench of the Big Daddy pheromones.

The brute bent down to allow the Little Sister to climb down from his back onto the ground. Meanwhile, Sinclair was saying, "Now, that Big Daddy won't bite until you do, but to get to Lil' Sis, you'll have to put the old boy down for good..." I only vaguely heard my ally as I watched the little girl courtesy as she looked at the tin man. Then, she waved at him as she said, "Thank you, Mr. B."

As the little girl began to move around the lounge, I quickly studied my surroundings. In the center of the space, there was a large statue with pools of water on either side. To the right, was the bar area. To the left, there were booths, including a little side area immediately to the left of the statue. I smirked beneath my face. I could not have picked a more advantageous place to fight the big, dumb brute if I had personally chosen it.

Even still, I would have to be at the top of my game to take on the other Big Daddy. After making a trip to the Circus of Values vending machine behind the bar area to buy a first aid kit and an EVE Hypo, I returned to the pair. As I exited the side area behind the bar, the red dressed Little Sister suddenly veered towards me and began to skip along the edge of the pool of water.

I cringed. If I attacked the Bouncer from where I was, I would put the little girl in the line of fire. I had been hoping to put myself on the other side of one of the pools of water to counter the brute when he attempted to charge at me as an opening move. As close as she was, I doubted that I could get around the pair without alerting the child, who would then alert the tin man.

Luckily, the little girl seemed to be trying to help me despite her conditioning by noticeably slowing her pace just long enough for me to dart along the side of the bar and back towards the statue. As I waited for the perfect moment to pounce, the little girl again seemed to want to help me because she led her following protector towards the barrel near the bar that was leaking oil around its base. I waited for the girl to get as far away from the barrel as possible and then began my assault.

As my opening move, I sent a blast of Electro Bolt into the barrel. As the high-energy electrical arcs made contact with the metal skin of the barrel, the object exploded. The blast peppered the giant with shrapnel and further damaged him with the shockwave. Simultaneously, the explosion ignited the oil beneath the tin man's feet and the giant was soon ablaze. Giving off an enraged roar, the Bouncer began to turn towards me.

Meanwhile, my Security Bot chirped in alarm and began to pepper the armored giant with machine gun fire. The rounds, however, did little more than further enrage the tin man as they bounced off his modified Carmagnolle Atmospheric Diving Suit. With a single swing of his drill, the Big Daddy destroyed the bot, sending pieces of metal flying in all directions. With his numerous portholes giving off Hellish red light, the brute focused his attention on me.

Suddenly, the Little Sister cried out, "GET 'EM MISTER B!" Artificial, burning fury filled me as my Protector Instincts stormed full force into my mind. The frightened little girl had unknowingly activated the aggressive response of my Big Daddy programming. Hellish red light began to emit from my porthole.

Then, revving my drill, I let out an ear-shattering guttural roar that thundered through the entire park and even shattered the beer and wine bottles in the bar area. If there was a Big Sister in the area, I was certain that all of her attention was now on this fight. Good, I was giving to give her something to tell the rest of the protectors, the 'Rapture Family', and Sofia Lamb herself.

The brute charged towards me, but I electrocuted the water in front of him with a blast of Electro Bolt. The Bouncer growled as he made contact with the water. I charged towards him. However, before I could get around him to attack his only weak point, the tanks on his back, the protector recovered. Wheeling around, the brute smashed the side of his drill into my armored head, causing me to lose my balance and stagger.

Enraged, I roared loudly as pain shoot through my body. The giant attempted to bore into me, but I used my agility to side step his slow attack. As the brute attempted to recover, I got around to his back and sent my revving drill into the fuel tank for his drill. In the seconds I had, I managed to rip open the tank, causing a huge stream of fuel to impact my torso.

My attack backfired as the sparks coming off my whirling drill bit ignited the fuel. We both roared in agony as we were engulfed in flame. However, unlike the dumb brute, I had sense enough to extinguish the inferno around my body before any permanent damage was done to both my suit and my person by using the nearby waterfall coming down through the roof above the stage. However, the Bouncer merely allowed the inferno feed off the enormous fuel reserve on his back as the agonizing fire ate away at his person and the life support systems on his back.

With the flesh beneath the canvas skin of my suit tingling from the burns, I focused back on the damaged Big Daddy. By then, the blaze had consumed the available fuel and the crispy protector roared at me as he lifted his drill into the air. Realizing what he was about to do, I attempted to electrocute him. However, I was too late. Using his namesake attack, the Bouncer slammed his drill into the ground.

I was temporarily stunned and unable to dodge his attacks properly. Taking advantage of my temporary disadvantage, the mass produced model bull charged me. Unable to move, I could only brace myself by loosening up my form to lessen the damage that I would receive. The same principle explained why, in car crashes, the individual who was DUI was usually the one that walked away unscathed.

Throwing his entire body mass into me, the Bouncer slammed me up against the wall behind me. I grunted in misery as I heard and felt several of my ribs snap while I also heard the throne for my master when she was on my back crumple. Seconds later, relief filled me as the red liquid of the tank on my back filled my body and repaired the damage to my ribs. The brute retreated away slightly and then swung his drill towards me.

Roaring, I ducked down to dodge the attack. The brute's drill became embedded in the wall behind me. Quickly moving around the Bouncer, I pounced onto the brute's vulnerable life support system on his back. Swinging my drill twice, I shattered the tin man's kneecaps. As the sound of cracking bone filled the air, the wounded giant collapsed onto the stage as he roared in pure agony.

Lost in my rage, I forgot that I was in the presence of a child. Eleanor's pheromone signature was overwhelming my senses to the point that I felt the urge to dry heave. I heard the Little Sister cry out, "End my pain, Daddy! Please!" Eleanor? Wait, no that was a new Little Sister, not my daughter. Right? The Little Sister cried out desperately, "Unzip him, Father! Unzip him!" Eleanor! That was Eleanor! The Bouncer had my Eleanor?! Though it seemed impossible, even more burning rage filled me. I roared in unimaginable fury. NO ONE touched my Eleanor! NO ONE!

I placed my right boot on the back of the Big Daddy's armored torso. Then, reaching up with my gauntlet encased left hand, I grabbed ahold of the brute's life support system, which was the second tank on his back. Unlike my kind, who could still "breathe", if our metal lungs were compromised, with the ones that we were born with, the Mass Production Big Daddies were grafted into their suits. Therefore, if their external lung was compromised, the brutes would die nearly instantly due to both the shock and the obvious reason.

However, for it to work, the tank had to be more than just punctured. Grunting as I exerted my new muscles, I pulled up on the tank. The Bouncer pinned beneath me flailed his arms like a defenseless tortoise. Had the tin man been able to swing his drill, he would have flipped himself over. However, the drill was still lodged in the wall and the awkward angle of his position prevented his other arm from being able to roll his enormous bulk over to dislodge me.

Finally, with a nauseating, sick, wet popping sound, the Bouncer's tank began to succumb to my assault. Blood began to shoot out of the sides of the tubes that connected the tank to the giant's back. My hearing was replaced by ringing as the Big Daddy's agonized cries overwhelmed my ears. With one final exertion, I forcibly detached the tank from the Bouncer.

I stumbled backwards with the tank still in my left hand for a few steps. Then, regaining my footing, I stopped. Throwing down the tank, I looked back at the essentially eviscerated Bouncer Big Daddy. The portholes were black and the giant was completely still. Still overwhelmed by rage, I stomped over to the lifeless protector. I placed my right boot on top of the armored hide of the giant. Then, after inhaling deeply, I let out the loudest roar that I had ever given off as I smashed the side of my drill against my armored chest repeatedly.

My roar vibrated the very walls of the building as it rocked the air of the park. I would not have been surprised if all of Rapture heard me. It was a message to all those who dared to get in my way. Subject Delta was not a frail old man! I was the paragon of all the Big Daddies! I was the boogeyman that haunted the nightmares of anyone who dared to consider hurting my beautiful Eleanor.

The Alpha Series were NOT dead! I was back! Me! Subject Delta! I was going to make them pay! I was going to make them all pay for leaving me and my kind to rot! When I finally ran out of breath, I collapsed onto my hand, drill, and knees. My calm, rational mind returned as I gasped for air while I continued to stare at the hardwood floor with the three sections of my oval eye.

Suddenly, a shadow approached me. Lifting my bulk up to identify my new assailant, I came face-to-face with the Little Sister that had just witnessed me heartlessly and brutally kill her "knight in shining armor". Shame and guilt began to overwhelm me but, suddenly, the Little Sister reached forward with her left hand.

She placed her tiny pale palm gently against the side of my armored head. Meanwhile, I noticed green light against her tiny body. My visor must have begun to emit green light instead of the typical golden yellow or Hellish red. Confusion filled me as I attempted to understand what was happening. I got my explanation seconds later when the little girl addressed me, "No, Father. _You _are my knight in shining armor. I knew you could do it!"

Shocked, I let out an inquisitive grunt. The pale girl smiled, the traces of ADAM in the corners of her mouth being the main indication that she was because her tiny lips were nearly translucent, as she nodded. As I scrutinized her glowing yellow eyes, I saw it: that sharp edge of intelligence and strong will. It was Eleanor. She must have been somehow controlling the Little Sister. She motioned for me to stand. Smiling, I pushed myself to my feet.


	6. Chapter 6: The Stakes

Ch. 6: The Stakes

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry the update took so long.

See, what happened was that I read the first few chapters and I realized that I was basically doing a "walkthrough".

As I do not intend for this story to be one, I decided to alter the plans that I had for it.

In my original plan, I was going to have Delta tracking the other Alpha Series Big Daddy's progress for the majority of the story and then, around Fontaine Futuristics, the two would finally cross paths.

However, I have decided against that and have made adjustments to my future chapter ideas. I think I have made a good balance though.

Besides, I refuse to believe that Delta and Sigma are the only survivors of the Alpha Series, and even Delta was resurrected and then "absorbed" by Eleanor so...can't really count him.

I mean, even ten years later with decayed suits and being warped out of their minds, they are still among the toughest enemies encountered in the game. You're telling me that at least one didn't "make it"? Yet, that little scrawny Poole survived? Whatever, get out of here...

Anyway, to my F.E.A.R. readers, I promise that the character is not who you probably thought of when you saw the name. I assure you that the name is just a coincidence. Granted, they have a similar friendship with the main character but beyond that, trust me, they are not the same character. I am not that lazy xD. In my defense, there are only a few cool sounding Greek letters and most of them are already overused in other stories.

Speaking of which, any similarities to characters with the same name in other stories is purely just a coincidence.

I hope a "wingman" doesn't ruin the story for the people that have taken the time to read my story so far. It is just the kind of stuff that I like to write. I put off posting this new chapter for several days because I was worried that it might ruin the story for some people. I hope it doesn't. The story will still be dark :)

Read and review if you want.

* * *

As I stood, Sinclair said, "Take a breath, son. You did it. Now, just let her ride on your shoulders and she'll trust you like her own Daddy." I briefly wondered how much of the fight he had witnessed because he seemed rather calm for what I had just done. Either he had missed the part where I had eviscerated the Bouncer, or he was even more of a sociopath than I had originally thought.

I looked down at Eleanor, who remarked teasingly as she raised her free left hand up towards me, "I'm telling the other girls that _I_ have the best daddy." Laughing sarcastically with my repeated grunts, I reached down with my gauntlet-encased left hand. I gently grasped her underneath her right shoulder and began to lift her up. As she passed in front of my eye, she smiled brightly with her yellow eyes glowing brightly with joy as she gently touched the surface of my segmented eye with her small, pale left hand.

After I had raised her close enough, she clamored over my armored head and down onto her little throne, or what was left of it after the Bouncer had crushed me against the wall. A few moments later, I heard her tap on the top of my head to indicate that she was ready. As I turned to face back towards the exit, Sinclair said, "We're in business. Now, there are corpses all over Rapture, and Lil' Dimples there can sniff out the ADAM on 'em. Find one."

My radio deactivated. I mentally fumed about how incompetent my allies seemed to think I was. Just because I let some asshole get the drop on me with the Hypnotize plasmid, that did not mean that I was incompetent. Seconds later, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister chirped, "Mr. Bubbles, come on!" I smiled beneath my armored face and began to make my way out of the restaurant. As I did, I stopped at the Circus of Values vending machine behind the bar to restock my supplies. Afterwards, I began to leave the room.

However, as I reached the ornate bulkhead, the intercom system activated. Sofia preached, "Ryan was wrong. To hand sufficient power to any individual is to create a tyrant. We must therefore eradicate tyranny at the genetic level. To end sin itself. That is the family. That is our cause." I mentally snorted. Clearly, she had lost her mind. To remove the instinct for survival, which, ultimately, she would have to do, was to make the human being lamer than a horse with a broken leg.

Knowing my thoughts, Eleanor remarked, "Mother has become the very thing that she despises and she is so deluded that she doesn't even realize it." I grunted in response. As I walked down the steps outside the lounge, I heard a woman muttering to herself at the other end of the walkway. I could feel Eleanor's growing excitement as I drew closer with my upgraded drill and Electro Bolt plasmid at the ready.

I had entered the walkway when a woman dressed in torn formal attire and wearing a fancy mascaraed ball bunny mask with a broken right ear walked from the left side area out into the open. She swung her golf club, dragging the metal tip along the tiled floor in the down swing, as she muttered to herself. Somehow remaining oblivious to me, she turned to walk through the nearby open bulkhead.

I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into her. As she convulsed while blue electrical arcs surrounded her disfigured form, I swung my drill's sharp point into the back of her skull. The blow cracked open her head and the women flew forward through the open doorway. There, she collapsed into a heap on the floor. Meanwhile, Eleanor chirped, "Let's dance with them daddy!"

I laughed with repeated grunts at her playfulness and continued onwards. Moving past the dead Splicer, I returned to the crossroads of the amusement park. As we neared the lit sign above the left-hand side path that read, "Gift Shop", Eleanor asked politely, "Oh, can we go there daddy?" I gave off a quizzical grunt. She replied, "Pretty please, daddy? I've been a good girl. Promise."

I mentally sighed and then made my way towards the gift shop. Due to the silence of the cavernous-like area, my every bootfall thundered through the space. I entered the gift shop to find one of Ryan's old security guards standing inside the store. He was wielding a revolver and was facing my direction. As I approached, he yelled, "You're kind ain't welcome here!" Ignoring the deranged man, I continued forward.

He panicked and began to retreat further into the store as he yelled, "Help! Make him listen!" I mentally sighed as I chased after him as he ran towards the checkout counter of the upper floor. Why did these fools think that they were a match for me? Unless there were swarms of them, they had little chance against something like me.

I had been purpose-built for one thing and one thing only: to kill, to protect my little girl with my life against genetically modified supermen and women. These people should have been fleeing from me. Sofia must have riled them up even better than I wanted to believe her capable of doing. I began to wonder if the rumor about Ryan Industries installing pumps in the ventilation networks to release pheromones that would allow him to control the citizens of Rapture was true.

There was no way that was true. Ryan may have been an egotistical monster, but he believed in freewill. In fact, it was the cornerstone of Rapture. Surely, he would have never betrayed his own beliefs by removing the people's freewill. Big Daddies and Little Sisters were one thing. Our existence was the result of the brutal reality that came along with the plasmid industry. Betraying your own cornerstone belief was something else entirely. I shivered slightly as the full extent of the Hell that Rapture had been through hit me.

I may have hated Ryan at one time, but I idolized the man in a way. Self-built industrialist, ironclad will, extremely intelligent, and charismatic enough to convince people that Rapture was possible, Andrew Ryan was a true god among men. However, for all of his strengths, Ryan was a walking loudspeaker for Social Darwinism and Capitalism. He believed that by the force of his or her will, anyone could achieve greatness. He viewed beggars and the impoverished as lazy individuals that could pull themselves out of their situations.

Individuals like Sofia Lamb and Frank Fontaine were able to capitalize on Ryan's attitude towards the less fortunate and the city had begun to turn on its once beloved founder. Still, I refused to believe that things had disintegrated to the point that he had betrayed his own belief in freewill. The man had an army of Big Daddies and, following his seizure of Fontaine Futuristics, had the market cornered on plasmids and tonics. Plus, he had that little clubhouse of his up in Hephaestus. The events that led to someone managing to kill him was one story that I was dying to hear.

As I reached the top of the short flight of steps in pursuit of the Leadhead Splicer, I came face to face with two other individuals. One, a woman wielding a revolver, was past the checkout counter over in front of the large panes of glass that allowed someone to look at the surrounding city to my left. The second, a man concealing his face with a welding mask and wielding a section of pipe, was behind the counter directly in front of me. The original Splicer had retreated back past the counter and towards the toys inside the little side area behind the checkout counter.

Upon seeing me, the other two individuals screamed. Then, the woman began to fire upon me with her revolver. I growled as the small caliber rounds hit my form. Eleanor screamed with terror in her voice, "Unzip 'em daddy!" Burning fury filled me and I let out a loud roar that vibrated the air. Red light illuminated the section of the counter that I was facing as my roar continued to rock the air of the small shop.

The individuals briefly hesitated as fright entered their body expressions. The woman even covered her ears as I finished my enraged roar. Stomping towards the male Leadhead Splicer, I teased the throttle of my drill in anticipation of my assault on the cowardly individual that was not man enough to face me without his disgusting friends. Ignoring the pain as he fired his haphazardly repaired revolver point blank into my armored bulk, I grabbed him by the neck with my left hand. He gasped for breath and comically grabbed my wrist with his left hand in a pathetic attempt to force me to release my grip. I lifted him up into the air and he pressed the muzzle of his revolver against the glass surface of the middle segment of my eye.

A click was the weapon's only response when he pulled the trigger. Hearing the Thuggish Splicer about to swing his pipe at me, he apparently felt the need to announce his actions verbally, I turned to face him. I used the former security guard in my grasp like a shield. When the other man swung his pipe, he only succeeded in hitting his friend in the back. I revved up my drill and, with the industrial grade tool's motor whirling at full throttle, I sent it through the chest of the man.

The sound of crunching bone filled the air as blood flew out of the man and onto the exterior of the copper chest plate, that was the lower part of my head, that was the majority of my torso. As my drill's whirling point exited the back of the screaming former security guard, it penetrated into the man behind him. I heard the Splicer drop his pipe and ripped my drill back through the first man. Tossing the corpse off to the left, I moved towards the Thuggish Splicer.

The bloodied man was attempting to retrieve his pipe section. I finished him off with a swing of my drill. The body collapsed onto the floor and I trampled it as I stomped towards the final Splicer. The disfigured woman fired her revolver but the rounds ricocheted off my copper face. As I closed in, she attempted to reload her sidearm. However, her hands were shaking so uncontrollably that she was unable to reload before I sent an uppercut into the bottom of her chin.

The instant that she gave off a gurgling death rattle, the maddening rage returned to the back of my mind. Eleanor chirped happily, "Daddy is so brave." I smiled slightly beneath my face and returned to the toys. For the first time, I noticed the ghostly sound of a woman singing though I was unable to identify which song it was.

Unfortunately, to my daughter's dismay, the toy racks and bargain bins were mostly empty. Only a few plain plush dolls and metal submarine toys were left. There were several boxes full of teddy bears in the very back of the selection area around a combination safe. As I ripped the safe's swinging door off its hinges, I heard my companion say sorrowfully, "Aw, not even any parts. I want to build another dolly...Mother took mine away so I would forget you."

Kneeling, I rummaged through the safe's contents for useful items. I located around eighty dollars in a money clip though that was the only useful item inside the safe. However, as I began to retract my hand, I saw a baseball inside an airtight clear cube. I was confused as to why it was inside the safe but nonetheless crushed the container in my palm and retrieved the pristine white ball from the safe.

While I was rotating the ball in the palm of my gauntlet-encased left hand, I realized why the owner of the store had bothered to lock up the otherwise worthless piece of sports equipment. On the ball were the signatures of Andrew Ryan, Frank Fontaine, and Sofia Lamb. I immediately questioned the authenticity of Sofia's signature. The titans of industry would likely sign anything if it got their name out there but the altruist shrink believed that names only further isolated individuals from each other so she only used her name as a formality.

Shrugging, I lifted the ball up towards my daughter. She cried out in excitement when she saw the object and eagerly took it from my grasp. Wanting to investigate the rest of the shop, I turned and made my way to the back of the store. I descended the short flight of steps to the right of the checkout counter and, upon reaching the bottom, I turned to the right and found the flight of stairs that led down to the restrooms. When I reached the bottom floor, I saw a newspaper vending machine against the wall next to two red payphones that were occasionally illuminated by a flickering light fixture mounted on the wall. On the wall in front of me, I saw faded advertisements for a clothing sale and Pink Elephant Whiskey. Meanwhile, the way into the women's restroom was blocked by a shorted out hinged metal gate.

As I walked towards the shorted out gate, I heard a woman crying hysterically somewhere in the men's restroom. I turned and waited for the Splicer to exit the restroom. After about a minute, no one had appeared. Eleanor called out, "Hello?" When there was not a response, I cautiously proceeded into the restroom. I turned left when I neared the wall-mounted advertisement for a Blasich Cigars Ad, though for the first time, I noticed that the child in the ad had roughly half of his face severely burned.

The interior of the restroom was dark and foreboding. The only light source other than the light coming in from the hallway was the sparking electrical cables descending from an open section of ceiling in the far back corner that looked suspiciously like a Splicer's escape route. I also noticed that the closest bathroom stall was conveniently closed as if there was someone inside of it. As if the stereotype for places that you would be ambushed in was not complete, there was a noticeable cloud of smoke wafting through the room just above the floor in a way that resembled fog.

Eleanor asked, "We aren't going to fall for this are we?" I grunted as I moved forward towards the hole in ceiling. As I reached the spot, which had a huge pile of debris in the shape of a mound beneath it, I heard a toilet flush. Realizing that the Splicer had been inside the stall, I wheeled around with my drill at the ready.

However, to my confusion, the only sight that greeted me was an empty restroom. The stall door was now open but there were not any signs of the former occupant. That was impossible. Even Houdini Splicers made a noise when they used their Teleportation Plasmid. How had the Splicer managed to get away so fast and so silently?

I made my way to the stall to investigate. On the chipped white tile wall just before the stall was a Hop Up Cola Ad. The happy white bunny drawn on the ad was completely out of place in the dimly lit room that had the faint stench of death hovering in the air. As I stood in the threshold of the door, I noticed that my shadow on the wall was joined by another. Eleanor whined as the woman moved close behind us. Her cries of fear sent a jolt of rage through me. I let off an animalistic guttural roar while red light appeared on the tiled wall as the golden yellow light emitting from my eye changed to its hellish red.

When I turned around to eliminate the threat to my charge, I was struck across my armored face with a golf club. Sparks flew as the metal end of the makeshift weapon struck the copper surface of my head. The disfigured denizen tried to swing back in the opposite direction to hit me a second time. However, I caught the club with my left hand just below the union of the, now bent, rusted tip and the shaft. Then, I snatched the comically useless weapon from her grasp.

I quickly rotated the golf club so that the tip was pointed to the left and then, with one mighty swing, I buried it into the side of the Splicer's skull. The force of the impact snapped the shaft and I was left holding about half of it. The other half remained with the tip. With a squirt of blood gushing out of the wound, the corpse fell backwards onto the dirty floor. With calmness once again restored inside my mind, I exited the restroom.

However, I had no sooner reached the exit before I heard several Splicers yelling in the gift shop. They must have heard the commotion and entered the shop as a group to kill me in order to appease Sofia. Normally, I would have proceeded up the stairs to neutralize them. However, I stopped as I sensed that something was wrong. Eleanor became as quiet as she could as she sensed my alarm through our bond. Together, we listened to the unfolding situation upstairs in the shop.

The Splicers were yelling at each other, but it was a mixture of berating each other and general stress-induced vocalizations of vulgarity. One of them, a man that had an air of superiority in his tone, yelled, "You stupid fucking clods! I told you to watch our ass! How the fuck do you miss a Metal Daddy? Fucking useless! All of you!"

A woman yelled back, "Lamb said that he would have a mark!"

Another man, this one having less confidence in his voice, muttered, "We shouldn't have left Saunders and Christie out there..."

The first man snapped, "Survival of the fucking fittest! Maybe if you had been watching the entrance like you should have been, a Metal Daddy wouldn't be about to come and bust your skull!"

A different woman, though this one sounded much younger than the first, remarked, "Hey! Leave him alone asshole! You know he hasn't had any ADAM in nearly a month..."

The first man snapped, "Laddy-fucking-da! I am about to be a Metal Daddy's Betty because of you lazy shits!"

At that moment, I heard the security door for the gift shop open. The Splicers screamed as they fired their small arms. A myriad of different emotions and thoughts raced through my mind. A Metal Daddy? I had not anticipated another Mass Production Model to lumber his way into the area for at least another half hour. In its current state, Ryan Amusements would not be a "high traffic" area for the gather/protector pairs.

Contrary to what the average individual might think, protectors were not sent out from Point Prometheus and Hephaestus thoughtlessly. The Protector Program was built, organized, and operated just like a business. That should not be any surprise. After all, it was Rapture. There were standardized schedules and streamlined procedures.

However, while I had intimate knowledge of the schedule for my kind, I only had a general understanding of the schedule for the big, smelly, brutes. As different lines of research and development, we were not privy to each others daily schedules and, at least on my kind's part, we did not care enough to want to know anything about the tin men other than how to kill them proficiently should a Splicer turn one against us.

The reason for the meticulous schedule was that Big Daddies were expensive in terms of resources and time to build. The original Mass Production Models were never intended to be protectors so very little, if any, thought was given to mitigating the cost of their construction. After all, they were the poor souls that were intended to maintain Rapture's infrastructure. Meanwhile, my kind was purposely engineered and manufactured for the express purpose of being protectors for the gatherers.

When Dr. Alexander saw Subject Zeta crying in front of the Gather's Garden Vending Machine in the main building of Fontaine Futuristics, he was so disturbed by the sight that he almost instantly pulled the plug on our program. Due to our limited number of only approximately fifteen to seventeen active protectors at any given time and our "impracticality", new protectors were needed. The lumbering mindless drones were experimented on and eventually, the exact details were never revealed to the public or to us, they were turned into protectors.

However, they were expensive and their gear was nonrenewable due to the grafting process. The cobbled together appearance of the new model that I had seen outside the resort indicated that the new wardens of Rapture were running out of parts to build their Big Daddies. Moreover, the Bouncer that I had just killed looked much older than that new Big Daddy. Perhaps, he had been built before the Civil War and his suit had decayed. I began to suspect that Sofia's "Family" had completely run out of traditional Big Daddy suits and were relying upon the surviving Mass Production Big Daddies built during my time.

A loud, guttural roar tore me away from my thoughts as it suddenly rocked the air of the gift shop. The roar struck a chord inside of me. There was no mistaking that noise. Only one creature in all of Rapture made that sound: an Alpha Series Big Daddy. The call had gone out and I answered it. Letting out my own guttural roar, I thundered my way up the stairs to assist my brother. Unlike our iconic counterparts, we did not leave each other to fend for himself. Whenever possible, we assisted each other.

Upon reaching the gift shop, I saw six Splicers. Two were the women that I had heard earlier and four were men. The two women were both Leadhead Splicers and taking cover behind the checkout counter on the left platform section of the room while only two of the men were wielding revolvers and were taking cover behind the railing of the much smaller right platform. Meanwhile, the other two men, who were both wearing torn dockworkers' attire and wielding lead pipes, were rushing down the zigzag path in the center of the room between the two platforms towards an Alpha Series Big Daddy that appeared to have just entered the shop because the bulkhead was still raised up.

The sight of my brother filled me with indescribable relief. There was another Alpha Series! I knew that there had to be at least one! His suit was nearly identical to mine with its rivet-covered copper helmet with a glowing golden yellow segmented eye, dark blue canvas skin with brown leather armor, weighted diving belt and boots as well as the weight hanging down from his helmet by two coils of rope, diving knife secured to his left hip at a slight angle to allow ease of access, electric blue EVE-filled tube running down the interior of his left arm, metal mounts for a drill running down the exterior of his right arm, and gauntlet encased left hand. Even his left glove had the white numbers, "OO1" on its wrist strap.

However, unlike mine, his suit was slightly weathered from age but his suit otherwise still had a fairly pristine appearance. Moreover, in his right hand's vice-like grip and mounted to his right arm was a noticeably repaired Prototype Rivet Gun. I saw the tip of a Big Sister's needle-like weapon sticking out of the weapon and I realized that it was the same one that I had seen in the Security Wing. My brother must have taken the machine gun, located parts for his favored weapon, and then returned to repair it. I could see that he had replaced the air tank and the nozzle. Moreover, the nozzle was now modified to be a high-pressure nozzle in order to increase the weapon's damage output.

In the low light of the shop, I was unable to identify my brother. Eleanor informed me through our bond, "_That's him, Father! He is the one that gathered enough ADAM for Tenenbaum to help me revive you_." Meanwhile, my brother had dropped the two Thuggish Splicers with headshots and had attempted to engage the men on the right platform. The four Leadhead Splicers fired their sidearms at my unknown brother. The soft-nosed .38 caliber rounds ricocheted off his armored head, flying off to impact the walls and nearby miscellaneous items in the shop.

The cowardly Splicers were working in tandem. When my brother would fire his Rivet Gun at one of them, the others would emerge from cover and fire their revolvers. However, having heard my roar and thundering boot falls, the two women turned and began to fire upon me as the older one that was clad in torn, moldy, socialite attire screamed in panic, "Animal!" I growled in pain as the rounds impacted my form and began to move towards them with my drill at the ready and my left hand surrounded by blue electrical arcs.

As I stomped towards them, Eleanor yelled with a trace of anger in her otherwise robotic sounding Little Sister voice, "Nobody hurts MY Daddy!" The two deranged women stood as I reached them. The nearest one tried to club me with the grip of her revolver but I electrocuted her with a blast of Electro Bolt and then followed up with a swing of my modified drill. The razor sharp tip of my industrial grade tool gouged out the right side of her skull as I struck her across her face. When the corpse fell backwards onto the tiled floor, and thus getting in my way, I unceremoniously trampled it as I chased after the fleeing second Splicer.

When the fleeing woman circled around the back of the counter and began to sprint towards the exit, as my brother had moved towards the two men, I used Telekinesis to levitate the nearby cash register and then launched into the back of her lumpy head. One of the sharp corners of the metal object made contact with the Splicer's skull with a sickening wet crack. She cried out in both shock and agony as she fell down the flight of steps to the regular level of the shop.

I rushed after her and, upon reaching the bleeding denizen, who was trying to get up, I placed my armored left foot on her lower back and forced her back down. As she cried out in fear, I revved up my drill. The room was filled with the rumbling mechanical roar of my drill's motor as I thrust the whirling tip into the back of the already cracked open skull. Seconds later, it was all over. I ripped my drill's tip out of the corpse while I removed myself from the top of its back.

Powering down my drill, I looked around to see my brother moving towards me from where he appeared to have been purchasing more rivets from the El Ammo Bandito Vending Machine in front of the other platform. I waited until he reached me before I let out a grunt. Our voice boxes had been surgically modified, but my kind had created a language out of the sounds that we could still make. Hence, we could communicate audibly with grunts that sounded simple to an observer but, in reality, could convey many different words or phrases that changed with subtle variations in tone.

Hence, I had asked, "Alpha?"

My brother raised his left hand up in front of his head in a salute as he replied with a grunt, "Subject Alpha, at your service, sir." Then, he dropped his salute and extended his hand towards me as he finished, "It's good to see you again, Delta."

I smiled beneath my copper face before I shook my old friend's hand firmly as I grunted, "Likewise, my friend." As we released our grip on each others hand, I asked, "Where's Emily?" Emily was Alpha's charge. All the Little Sisters were close, but Eleanor and Emily were particularly close, even going so far as to remember the name of the others protector. Hence, I was called, "Papa Delta" by Emily and, respectively, Eleanor called Alpha, "Papa Alpha".

My friend replied, "She's alive somewhere...she's one of the Big Sisters now."

Curious, I asked, "How do you know that?"

He raised his Rivet Gun up so that I would see the broken tip of a Big Sister's weapon and explained, "She was the one that Sofia sent after me. She must have recognized me because she let me go."

The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister said over the top of my head, "Hi, Papa Alpha. I am sorry that I did not recognize you without your symbol. I should have known that you were the one that Tenenbaum reactivated. Other than Father, only you could have pulled off gathering so much ADAM...especially those sessions in Persephone right under Mother's nose. Don't worry about Emily, Alpha. Mother has her here with me. After she disobeyed her order to kill you, Mother locked her in the quarantine chamber with me until she agrees to follow the order. She says hi, that she is sorry that she attacked you, and that she wants you to come with us to the surface."

Alpha looked at my temporary charge for a moment in silence before he let out a laugh similar to mine. Then, he let out a grunt as he curtsied for Eleanor to mimic a stereotypical "knight". She giggled in response. Then, he grunted, "It appears that we have the same objective, sir. Think a joint op is in order? Granted, my programming has not been working right ever since they turned my daughter into a Big Sister so I do not have an Aggression Response anymore, but my aim is still proficiently pinpoint, and my mind remains my own."

I smiled beneath my face before I slapped his right shoulder with the palm of my gauntlet-encased left hand as I grunted, "I wouldn't have it any other way, my old friend. Come on, we need to gather enough ADAM for Incinerate in order to get out of this shithole."

He asked, "Couldn't we just leave through the airlock?"

I groaned before I explained, "I have to babysit Sinclair so he will guide me to Fontaine Futuristics."

My brother grunted with noticeable bitterness, "Sinclair? The man that sold us out? Why don't we just leave him to rot like he did to us?"

I smirked before I explained, "Because he needs us."

Alpha was silent for a moment before he remarked, "Does he now? Interesting...I forgot how manipulative you could be, sir. I'll play along then."

Eleanor giggled and then said, "Two Daddies? This is funny. I'm Daddy. No, I'm Daddy." I laughed with my repeated grunts briefly, but we had a job to do, so I grunted at her. I heard her sniff the air before she said, "ADAM is near...go back to the crosswalk, Father." Eagerly following my beautiful master's orders, I moved towards the main room. Subject Alpha moved beside me on my left with his Prototype Rivet Gun at the ready and I noticed that he also had his left hand up with a miasma around his ported digits.

As we entered the main room, I noticed signs of Alpha's recent fight with Sofia's hit squad. A female Splicer's corpse was lying prostrate in front of the ornate nearby column on our left. When we moved close enough, I observed the bloody wound with an industrial grade rivet imbedded in its center on the back of her deformed head where the brainstem had once connected to her skull. Upon seeing me observing the corpse, Alpha commented, "Just like you always reminded us, sir: sever the brainstem and they are dead before they hit the floor."

As we moved further across the "bridge" towards the entrance to the Hall of the Future, Eleanor suddenly cried out, "Down there, Father." Seeing a missing section of railing, I moved towards it to look down. Upon nearing it, I noticed several bloody footprints on the tiled floor. I reached the opening and peered down to see the corpse of a male Thuggish Splicer.

The body was lying prostrate in a pool of blood just before the entrance to the propaganda machine called Journey to the Surface. A few inches away from the body was a rusted red pipe wrench that I assumed to be the former denizen's weapon. The two sections of railing were lying on either side of the corpse and the body itself was on top of several pieces of rubble. To the left of the body was a barrel that had oil seeping out of it and a large, tall, flat shipping crate.

The clubfooted corpse was the "angel", as indicated by the subtle glowing of the body due to my bond with Eleanor and the new Little Sister. Not bothering to take the stairs, I stepped over the side of the opening. I landed hard on the tiled floor, making a loud crashing sound and cracking the section of tile beneath my feet. My brother landed beside me, making an equally thunderous noise. I turned to face the body and my built-in radio activated. Sinclair addressed me with his southern accented voice, "She's got a juicy one! But when she starts drainin' out the ADAM, the Splicers will come runnin'. Be ready before you set her down on that body."

As my radio deactivated, Alpha commented, "So, they treat you like the most incompetent Big Daddy in all of Rapture too huh?" I groaned in response. In preparation for the gathering session, we moved to place traps and hack any nearby machine that could help the Splicers.

Alpha placed a row of trap rivets on the edge of the opening in the railing and then a vertical row of them at the top of the flight of stairs that was closest to the body. Meanwhile, I rewired the health station located on the opposite side of the support wall for the bridge to be a trap for any Splicer that tried to use it to heal themselves. We did not have to worry about the staircase on the opposite side of the bottom floor since the majority of the Splicers would take the most obvious routes and the few that did use the staircase would easily be dealt with.

As a precaution, I also moved the barrel away from where it was in case one of the Splicers had a sudden shot of coherent thought and used it against us. I placed it in front of the Circus of Values and El Ammo Bandito Vending Machines, which were against the nearby support wall on our side. It would serve as an "ace in the hole" should the Splicers overwhelm our position.

Then, with Subject Alpha taking position further back near the locked bulkhead leading to the ride to provide covering fire with his Rivet Gun, I moved to stand next to the body. I knelled enough for Eleanor to hop down onto the tiled floor safely. After I sensed that she had lowered herself down to the ground, I stood back up and then looked down at her as she happily pointed at the body before her.

She said something as well, but my radio activated and Sofia preached at me loud enough to overpower my charge's voice, "That is a child of the Family, not a toy for you to exploit and discard. It is fitting that you expire here – one more forgotten curio in Ryan's shrine to the self."

By then, Eleanor had started to gather the ADAM inside the corpse. The sick suction noise filled the air as she repeatedly thrust the comically oversized needle into the body before pulling the trigger of her gathering tool. Sinclair advised me, "Here they come! Keep the Splicers off her now 'til she finishes or they'll never give up the hunt!"

The air was filled with the yells of the incoming deranged members of Sofia's flock as they descended upon our position like a pack of ravenous wolves. I submitted to my Protector Instincts and razor sharp focus returned to my mind. Meanwhile, I began to emit a rumbling, threatening roar as my eye began to emit hellish red light in an attempt to warn any would-be predator to steer clear of my charge.

In the early days, our mere appearance and cries were enough to frighten away any potential threats to our daughters. In fact, it was very rare for an actual incident to occur for several weeks after the official commissioning of our program. It almost became a running joke amongst us that there were so few incidents.

However, that all changed as the pressures of social unrest and ADAM addiction began to take hold in the public. Political Revolution, they said. Rising up against "the tyrant", they said. As Fontaine once said, "Give me a smart mark over a dumb one every time." Yes, Rapture did indeed go to proverbial Hell.

Except in the finest areas of Rapture, Splicers would come out of the woodwork by the dozens whenever we gathered. I could still smell the nauseating stench of blood iron and could still hear the maniacal laughter and agonized screams as clear as I could sense my new surroundings. They just would not stop charging at me even as piles of them would appear at my feet. Why would they not stop? That was all I wanted: for them to stop so that Eleanor was safe and I did not have to kill yet another individual.

If it had not been for the numbing effect of my Protector Instincts and Eleanor's calming presence, I would have had a psychological breakdown from the memories of the carnage that I had caused. It was not losing their bonded daughter that caused some of my brethren to become emotionally unstable wrecks. Some of them just could not live with knowing what they had done and, more specifically, what they had become: a heartless monster that could kill another human being and feel nothing for doing it. After that, they were like zombies as they mindlessly protected their charges and they usually did not last through another gathering session.

Of course, that all suddenly ceased around Christmastime. The public, even Ryan himself, may have been fooled into having a false sense of security as the unrest ceased, but we were not fooled. We knew what was coming. The New Year's Eve Riots confirmed our suspicions, though I had failed to witness the ensuing descent of Rapture into near self-destruction.

A woman wearing a dirty white formal dress, concealing her face with a dirty bridal veil, and wielding a golf club rushed at me from the left side of the support column seconds later. The onslaught had officially commenced. Physically shielding my master by standing directly between her and the incoming Splicers while still allotting Alpha clear avenues of fire on either side of me, I steeled myself to protect her with my life. I was not useless! I may have been an old man, but I could still kill anything that dared to threaten my beautiful master!

As the woman neared me, I electrocuted her with a blast of Electro Bolt and then bashed her across her face with my drill. The usual stream of blood, flash, and bone fragments exited the side of the Splicer's cracked skull as the classic combo neutralized her. Her body was crumbling to the ground just as three more Thuggish Splicers, all three of them being clad in moldy security guard attire and wielding batons, rushed towards us from around the same side of the wall. Meanwhile, a hideously deformed lone Thuggish Splicer rushed around the right side of the wall wielding a red pipe wrench as he screamed, "You ain't her real Dad!"

The high-pitched report of Alpha's modified Prototype Rivet Gun filled the air as he took aim at the incoming group. My brother was not exaggerating about the retention of his skills. We used to call him "The Typewriter" because of his prowess with his weapon of choice. Any concerns that I had had moments prior were silenced as he dropped each Splicer with a clean headshot as he three fired standard rivets in rapid succession.

As the lone Splicer neared me, he cried out as he lunged towards me in a full body swing of his wrench. I quickly knelled and, as the man missed me and lost his balance, I reached forward and grabbed his less mutated right leg with my gloved left hand. Standing back up, I flipped him over my left shoulder. He landed hard next to Eleanor, who was drinking from her needle's baby bottle reservoir. The man cried out in confusion as he struggled to catch his breath and get to his feet.

Meanwhile, I noticed that Eleanor was unusually calm as she continued to gather despite the fact that a wheezing Splicer was lying mere inches away from her. Before he could recover, I stomped down on the top of his skull with my heavy, armored right foot. A sick crunching sound filled the air as I succeeded in crushing the man's skull. Meanwhile, I heard Alpha firing his Rivet Gun and, when I turned back to look towards the support wall, I saw two new bodies on the ground just beyond the left path with a single rivet in their heads.

Eleanor assured us as she continued to thrust her tool into the body and extract the ADAM, "Soon Daddy, soon." I heard the Trap Rivets on the upper floor fire and then heard the death rattles of several Splicers. Seconds later, two more former security guards in moldy, mud-covered trench coats rushed towards me with batons in their right hands. Meanwhile, behind me, I heard the distinct sound of cutting torches burning their way through the security bulkhead.

I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into the first guard. As the denizen convulsed while electric arcs danced around his, I shattered the front of the man's skull with a swing of my drill. Blood and bone fragments erupted out of the Splicer's face as his corpse fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The other guard shoved the falling body out of his way as he continued to rush at me with his baton raised above his head.

When he reached me, I sent the hardened tip of my drill into his left kneecap. The resulting wet popping sound indicated that my strike had shattered his knee. The former park employee cried out in agony as he collapsed onto his hands and knees before me. Growling, I raised my drill up above my head with its tip pointed downwards and then thrust it straight down into the top of the struggling Splicer's skull. The tip of my heavy-duty tool easily penetrated straight through his skull and exited out through the Splicer's nasal cavity.

Fearing that more Splicers were about to rush at us, I stomped down on the corpse just below the neck and unceremoniously ripped my bloodied weapon free from the former Splicer's skull. After moving to stand in front of my charge once again, I strained my senses to detect new Splicer arrivals. Moments passed but none appeared. The only perceivable threat was the new arrivals cutting their way through the ornate bulkhead behind us.

Shifting our attention, we turned and focused on the rapidly failing watertight bulkhead. The three independent balls of sparks were quickly moving to the edges of the door. As the sparks approached the edges, we tightened our grip on our respective weapon. Suddenly, Eleanor announced with a happy tone, "Tada! Come on, Daddy!" No more than a second later, the bulkhead exploded outwards. We both roared in agony as hot metal shrapnel peppered our enormous bulks.

Two male Leadhead Splicers emerged from the smoke and fired their haphazardly repaired revolvers at us. Unfortunately, for them, the smoke prevented them from accurately firing their small caliber sidearms and Alpha quickly silenced them both with headshots. We both looked at each other and exchanged a silent acknowledgement of gratitude for the others assistance.

Returning to my temporary charge, I noticed that all of the bodies had a blue butterfly pinned to their attire like a badge. I had seen similar butterflies scribbled on walls in reference to Sofia's "Family". Why a butterfly? Clearly, it stood for something but I was unable to infer what it was. Perhaps, I would uncover the meaning during my quest to reach my daughter. By then, I had reached my blue and white dressed charge.

Eleanor smiled up at me as she injected the needle of her tool into my upper left thigh. As she injected my share of the ADAM, I felt the familiar feelings of euphoria and energy. It felt molten hot as it coursed through my veins, which caused me to shutter slightly. My ADAM-starved body eagerly welcomed the substance as if it was food, which, for Alpha Series Big Daddies and presumably Big Sisters, it actually was as a consequence of the massive amount of ADAM that was required to splice our bodies into the walking juggernauts that we had to be. Just a little more and I would have enough to purchase the basic form of Incinerate. Eleanor retracted her needle and turned towards my old friend.

However, he waved his left hand and then grunted with gratitude in his tone, "I have enough to hold me over until your father can purchase Incinerate, Miss Eleanor. Tenenbaum allotted me some of the ADAM that I helped her collect."

The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister nodded and then looked up at me. I noticed that golden yellow light illuminated her deathly pale skin. My eye must have returned to emitting its standard color. Raising her left hand towards me, she teased me, "Are we going to be together again, Daddy?" I smiled beneath my armored face as I lowered myself down to a kneeling position. Eleanor giggled and then climbed up onto her throne.

As she did, my built-in radio activated. Seconds later, Sinclair addressed me, "Now you know the stakes, son. But a plasmid costs a bit more ADAM yet. Keep it up. I see you have made a friend too. The more the merrier, I say."

I heard Eleanor sniff the air. However, she began to whine with fear. I gave off a quizzical grunt. She explained with her robotic sounding voice, "We have to go through the scary place to get to the angel." Her innocence struck me in my heart. Even after all this time, she was still afraid of the Journey to the Surface ride. I assured her with the gentlest voice that I could rumble through my surgically modified voice box that we would protect her.

Subject Alpha grunted a similar assurance and she finally agreed to be taken through the propaganda machine. After replenishing our supplies at the nearby vending machines, we began to proceed towards the opening that led to the entrance of the ride. As we did, my companion quickly asked, "Sir, just curious: how did you know it was me even though my mark has been removed?"

I smirked beneath my face before I replied, "Because only you would have chosen that repaired pea shooter over a .50 caliber machine gun, Alpha."

He retorted, "Only you would have chosen that barbaric contraption of metal over an actual weapon, sir."

I laughed with my repeated grunts before I replied, "To each his own, my friend." By then, we had reached the opened bulkhead and proceeded into the ride.


	7. Chapter 7: They grow up so fast

Ch. 7: They grow up so fast

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry about the wait.

I have been amazed by the attention that this story is getting. It is rivaling the traffic that my main F.E.A.R. story gets and…that thing is 40+ chapters long, is at 300,052 words, has 55 fav's and has 53 follows.

So, seriously, thank you everyone for your support.

By the way, I want to assure you that this story will not become the monster of a story that my F.E.A.R. story has. To be honest, I did not set out to create such a long story, since it was my first ever fanfic and the first thing that I ever posted, but it kind of took on a life of its own. Plus, I have a thing for Alma…so…it got a little out of hand.

Anyway,

I am aware that in the game Delta uses his right hand to exorcise the Little Sisters when he saves them but my Delta has a thing about making himself "vulnerable" by removing his drill from his right hand so I improvised.

Oh, and yes...it is a reference to the Brotherhood of Steel from the Fallout series. Because any waster can lumber about the wastes but only the truly elite can wear sexy T-45d power armor and wield Gatling Lasers and Miniguns like bosses.

Steel be with you xD

Coming soon: the wrath of the first Big Sister.

Read and review if you want.

* * *

As we walked through the forcibly opened bulkhead, I asked with a grunt, "Have you made any contact with the rest of the Brotherhood of Steel?" As a private joke, we sometimes referred to ourselves as the Brotherhood of Steel, though now that most of us were presumably dead or worse, I feared that the "Brotherhood" part no longer had any relevance.

My brother replied immediately, "No, sir." It did not take much effort on my part to know that he was lying. I had accepted the heart-wrenching truth of what being dead for ten years meant. The men that I had called my brothers were long gone. As skilled and resilient as we were, even we could not last forever. We were not fighting the Splicers as much as we were the march of time. Roll the dice enough times and your number would be up sooner or later.

As we entered the dark foreboding entrance to the ride, I saw the automaton of the big man himself: Andrew Ryan. The machine was positioned to give the impression that Ryan was casually sitting behind his desk with his left arm bent as he laid back in his chair and supporting himself by placing his left hand near his left hip. Meanwhile, his right leg was crossed over his left.

The ravages of time had taken its toll on the machine's exterior. While the light brown business suit, I doubted that he even owned any other clothing other than that monkey suit, and matching pants were still identifiable, the rest of the machine's exterior was rough with chipped paint and pot marks. Around the automaton was the imitation of an office with bookshelves against the wall behind it and with filing cabinets against the walls on the left and right.

Standing in front of the desk, I wondered aloud with a grunt, "I wonder how someone managed to kill him."

To my surprise, Alpha, who had moved to stand next to me, replied, "Some fool used an EMP bomb to gain entrance into his clubhouse up in Hephaestus. Then, he killed him with his own golf club. Found it sticking in the side of his head with blood everywhere and the man's face heavily bludgeoned."

Shocked, I asked, "It wasn't you was it?"

His shoulders dipped for a moment as if he was sighing before he grunted back, "Negative, sir. Wish I had though."

I asked, "So how do you know all those things?"

He explained, "Emily and I were there while it happened but we never saw who was doing all the shooting. Later, we entered his office and she started stabbing him with her needle."

Confused, I remarked, "I didn't know Ryan was using."

My ally laughed with repeated grunts before he said, "I didn't say that she was gathering from him." I laughed in response. Like Eleanor, Emily retained a large amount of who she had been prior to her forced enslavement as a Little Sister. She had been the daughter of a family that had had owned their own newspaper. Though they ran an admirable paper, her parents had unfortunately ruffled the big man's feathers when they printed an article suggesting that he had been somehow involved in the murder of his mistress. Just like me, they "disappeared". Without parents, Emily was sent to one of the many Little Sister's Orphanage around the city.

As much as I enjoyed being known as the original Big Daddy, in truth, the difference between when Alpha and Emily had been bonded and when Eleanor and I had been bonded was mere hours. Both of our respective "pairs" were favored by the butchers called scientists as being the best candidates for the new procedure.

Looking over at the far left corner, I saw a golf club leaning against the wall next to an oversized golf ball. Smirking beneath my armored face, I moved over to the object and picked up the club with my gloved left hand by its leather grip. After turning around to face the automaton, I let out a grunt of exertion as I swung the golf club at it. The metal tip collided with the right side of the machine's head and, with a shower of sparks and the sound of an automaton's limbs being severed filling the air, sent it flying off to the left. It smashed against the wall with a dull thud. Dropping the club, I exited the mock up of an office.

Eleanor asked, "What was that for Daddy?"

I laughed before I replied, "Just paying my respects to the founder of Rapture my dear Eleanor."

Moving on towards the ride, we passed the pile of boxes on the left and the sealed employee entrance on the right. As we came to the staircase that led down to the now jumbled mess of cars that resembled miniature bathyspheres, I noticed the machine gun leaning against the railing in the corner of the stairs along with an extra box magazine that was lying on the metal floor.

At that moment, a female Splicer dressed in tattered aristocratic attire and wielding a Thompson Submachine Gun appeared on the balcony in the far opposite left corner. Meanwhile, a Thuggish Splicer dressed in security guard attire and wielding a baton rushed out of the open ride entrance below the giant neon yellow sign that read, "Journey to the Surface" and disappeared from view as he entered the maze of jumbled cars. The woman, whose face was covered by a bunny mask, began to shoot at us while she yelled, "I told you about this one. Make him listen."

Two of the rounds struck my frame. To my shock, the rounds easily penetrated my armored hide. I growled loudly in agony as the pain shot through my body like a massive flood of molten metal. When I had been ambushed by Sofia's followers in the booth in the train depot, I had assumed that the massive amount of damage that they had managed to inflict upon me in such a short amount of time was merely due to their close proximity and numbers. However, this time, I realized that there was something else going on.

The standard Thompson Submachine Gun fired .45 ACP pistol rounds. Hence, the designation of "submachine gun" as opposed to "machine gun". .45 ACP was a brutal round at close range against lightly armored targets. However, it lacked in penetration capability due to its pistol cartridge. There was only one round in Rapture that could have just inflicted such damage upon me: .50 BMG or .50 caliber Browning Machine Gun.

More of a small artillery round than a rifle round, the .50 BMG was the brainchild of John Browning who designed it for his revolutionary machine gun, the fabled M2 Browning .50 Caliber Machine Gun. Damn near indestructible, the M2 was death incarnate for any living creature foolish enough to get caught in its crosshairs. In my days in the U.S. Navy, we had strapped them into aircraft, ships, and vehicles. However, if the Splicers had bored out their Thompsons to be able to chamber .50 BMG rounds, then they were even more foolish than I had originally thought. The immense size of the round would severely weaken the structural integrity of the Thompsons. It would be a miracle if the weapon did not shatter in their hands.

As the red liquid from the tank on my back healed my wounds, we made our way down the stairs. Electrical arcs danced around my left gauntlet-encased hand and my drill was poised at the ready. We reached the landing and turned to face the entrance of the ride. Before us, there were two cars that were separate from the massive pile of them further down the line. Meanwhile, to our right, there was another sealed employee access door and I could make out a Plasmid container beyond the sealed bulkhead.

Seeing movement behind the second car, I prepared myself for the coming assault. Seconds later, as we slowly moved forward, two male Thuggish Splicers rushed towards us with their batons raised up in the air in their right hands. The high-pitched report of Alpha's modified Rivet Gun sounded through the gloomy space and, almost simultaneously, blood squirted out of the furthest Splicer's face as the industrial-grade projectile imbedded itself into the man's skull.

Meanwhile, I electrocuted the nearest Splicer with a blast of Electro Bolt. The deranged denizen cried out in agony as the high-energy electric arcs danced around his form. Letting out a grunt of exertion, I swung my drill in a powerful singular thrust to the left in an arc. The razor sharp point of my favored weapon struck the right side of the man's head. The power behind my thrust succeeded in allowing my drill to gouge out the portion of the skull around the area of impact.

With the two Splicers neutralized, we continued forward. However, after only a few steps, two more Thuggish Splicers rushed towards us. The first one, a man wielding a pipe wrench and covering his face with a welder's mask, yelled, "A baby! Let me, let me!" The second, a man dressed in security guard attire and wielding a baton, followed behind the first as they both charged at us.

I absentmindedly wondered what could have been motivating them to attack two Big Daddies simultaneously; two Big Daddies that were protecting a Little Sister nonetheless. Bravado only went so far, even for an addict. This was more like a plea for death. They reminded me of the famous Japanese Banzi charges that went straight at entrenched American machine gun emplacements and the Russian Mass Attacks that went straight at the entrenched German machine gun emplacements.

Meanwhile, I had reached up and grabbed the pipe wrench wielding Splicer's right wrist with my gloved left hand as he tried to swing his weapon. Still pondering their motivations, I was only vaguely aware of his cries of pain as I crushed his wrist with my immense strength while I simultaneously revved up my drill and sent its whirling bit into his lightly protected lower torso. Blood flew as the sound of ripping tissue filled the air as my drill powered its way through the Splicer's organs and then through his spinal column.

The groves on my drill's bit acted as an extra hand to keep the man from being able to push himself off the bit as well as drawing him in. By the time that the bloodied tip appeared behind the man, he had become hunched over near my chest, almost resting his head against my right shoulder. Having come to the conclusion that I should not compare Splicers to human beings and to instead compare them to animals, I powered down my drill and then unceremoniously flung the "animal" off to my right. Meanwhile, Alpha had casually dropped the second Splicer with a headshot.

As we continued onward, we came to a wall made out of cars and sheet metal. Continuing along the side of the makeshift barrier, we continued to stomp our way further into the large room. To our right were props that mimicked the buildings of Rapture before the city had fallen into the state of extensive disrepair that I had observed in the train car. The blue light of the surrounding Atlantic Ocean lazily drifted through the cracks in the props.

Moments later, the sight of the purposely scary sign that had evil looking seahorses along its exterior as well as the words, "Journey to the Surface" loomed in front of us above the entrance to the ride. When the ride had been operational, there had been a bulkhead that would seal off the ride itself until the operator started the ride. Judging by the rubble along the path as it made its way up a steep incline beyond the entrance to the ride, that had long since stopped being the case.

After investigating the side room to the left of the cars, which resulted in around forty dollars that was split between the two of us, we returned to the main area. A male Leadhead Splicer had appeared but my brother quickly cut him down with his Rivet Gun. I could feel Eleanor's fear through our bond as we approached the open entrance to the ride and let out a reassuring groan to calm her. She replied with her robotic sounding Little Sister voice, "Don't worry Daddy, I will be brave like a big girl."

Beneath her cute, childish façade, I sensed her desire to prove herself to me. She wanted to prove to me that she was no longer a child so that I would see her as an adult. Despite my uneasiness about her repeated attempts get me to think of her as something more than my charge, I had to admit that, to a certain extent, I was grateful for her affection. The hulking tin men may have been able to lumber about the cold, dark sunken ruins of Rapture in happy ignorance of their miserable plight but my kind was cursed with sentience.

We were very much aware of our plight. We yearned for love, acceptance, and comfort just like any other creature. The typical remark that I had heard before Rapture's Fall was, "What could they possibly be upset about? Just look how strong and invincible they are. There is nothing to be upset about when you are that strong." Our "strength" came at a high cost. Simple connections like the touch of another person were all but lost to us. A sentient mind could only take so much torment before it cracked. As the old expression goes, "Something's got to give."

Our daughters had kept us from that horrible fate. They loved us and we loved them. No matter how miserable our circumstances were, they were always optimistic and happy. Their playful antics could lighten even the heaviest situations. Until our bodies turned cold, we knew that we could always look forward to being with them again when it was time to gather. What could be more natural than to love someone that gave you hope, happiness, a sense of purpose, and loved you in return?

As we began to ascend as we continued to follow the tracks, I noticed a car that was precariously perched at the very top of the incline. My instincts cried out in alarm and I braced myself to counter the ambush should it occur. My suspicions were confirmed seconds later as I heard the female Leadhead Splicer address an unseen Splicer, "Come on, exert yourself! Flatten him out!" Giving off an audible growl, I felt my rage return inside my mind. Shaking the ground, the car began to crash towards us.

Ducking behind the pile of rubble on our left, we dodged the incoming car as it rolled past us to finally smash into the beginning of the group of cars at the bottom of the tracks in the previous room. My Protector Instincts flared inside my mind and I let off a thunderous roar as my segmented eye began to emit red light. As the voices of deranged Splicers filled the air, Eleanor egged me on as she exclaimed, "Unzip 'em Daddy!"

Charging forward around the pile of rubble, I stormed up the flight of stairs. When a female Thuggish Splicer rushed at me with a golf club raised above her head, I trampled her beneath my heavy frame, causing the sound of cracking bones and agonized cries to fill the air as I continued forward. When I reached the top of the incline, I found the female Leadhead Splicer waiting for me to my right as she took cover behind a box that was on the imitation of a dock from the surface.

She raised her modified Thompson's barrel up to open fire at me but she had no more brought it up before I had reached her. Before she could fire her flimsy weapon, I collided with her at full speed. She could not react quickly enough to prevent me from roughly gripped her right shoulder with my left hand. As savage rage continued to flare inside of me, I leaned back and then violently smashed my armored face into her skull. My brutal headbutt succeeded in cracking open the Splicer's skull like a raw egg. Releasing my grip, I left the Splicer in a heap in the pool of water.

As I exited the water, I noticed that what I had assumed to be part of the illusion of the surface, the water, was actually the result of a collapsed section of the ceiling back toward the entrance to the balcony area. There, the ceiling had partially collapsed in a section and a deluge of water was pouring in. Turning back towards the track, I was struck by the deterioration of the ride. The walls were missing whole sections in places and there were piles of rubble every few yards along the path. A derailed car was facing towards me as it leaned against a pile of rubble. The sound of some Splicer crying could be heard over the roar of the incoming water and the crackling of fire. Beyond the derailed car, I saw the first "scare", which was the imitation of an idolized farm house from the surface.

However, such was the extent of the deterioration that I questioned the safety of taking Eleanor, or at least the Little Sister that she was controlling, through the decaying ride. Sensing my worried thoughts, Eleanor chirped, "Don't worry Daddy, I will be okay. I'm always safe with you." I mentally sighed. Eleanor seemed to still be under the false belief that I was "superman".

Hearing a machine being smashed, I turned back behind me to see Alpha destroying the Health Station back in the hallway to the balcony. He picked up the First Aid Kit that the destroyed machine dropped and returned to where we were. He handed it to me and, giving off a grateful grunt, I took it from him. After applying the red liquid soaked bandages to my body so that the excess would refill my tank, we proceeded onward.

The wooden boards beneath us creaked loudly in protest as we proceeded towards the first scare. There, we found the same farm house with the farmer who was tilling the soil, his wife, and his child. As we reached it, suddenly, the recorded voice of Andrew Ryan preached, "On the surface, the farmer tiles the soil, trading the strength of his arm for a home and land of his own."

At that moment, dark music played as red light illuminated the little scene. As it did, two giant hands that were the representation of "big government" descended down from the ceiling to rip off the roof of the house and then pilfer through whatever was inside. As they did, Ryan preached with a darker tone, "But the parasites say _NO! _We are the state! We are God! We demand our share!"

Eleanor cried out in fright but I assured her with my modified voice, "Sweetie, they aren't real. Besides, on the surface, it is called taxation…it pays for government works like road construction and repair…maintenance of buildings…it is an important part of maintaining the country's infrastructure and it is usually not that bad…usually."

She replied, "But Ryan said that they take away your possessions."

I explained, "No, that is not the government. That is called a repossession, sweetie. It is not the government that does that…it is the bank that that individual has taken out a loan with in order to have that piece of property. In which case, that person does not actually _own _said piece of property…the bank does. So, if the payments to pay back the bank stop, then the bank has every legal right to repossess it...after all, it is their property."

She asked, "So, the government taxes its people to maintain the infrastructure and banks only…repossess…things if the individual fails to pay off the loan?"

I smiled beneath my face and then replied, "Exactly, sweetie."

My charge remarked, "That…seems…reasonable."

I replied, "It is most of the time." Having explained the truth behind the first scare, we continued forward to try to find the "angel". Beyond the first scene there was a barrier made out of boxes. Luckily, there was a kind of ramp on the right side of it. The scrapes of wooden boards threatened to buckle under our weight but we managed to get to the other side of the barrier.

As I dropped down onto the track, a male Leadhead Splicer yelled as he shot a nearby barrel. The container exploded and metal shrapnel went flying through the air. Luckily, we were unscathed. The man, dressed in tattered casual attire and with a horribly disfigured head that was barely visible beneath numerous wrapped bandages, ran a few yards down the straight track and took cover behind a shipping box.

I mentally sighed as I saw the second barrel, this one mere inches away from where the man was behind cover. Too easy. I sent a blast of Electro Bolt into the metal container. As the high-voltage arcs of electricity made contact with the exterior of the barrel, it exploded. Shredded by flying shrapnel and engulfed in flames, the man collapsed to the ground as he groaned out a death rattle.

"Daddy, over there." I saw the faint trail appear in the air before me. It led into the room on our right that looked as though animals had ripped their way in through the bulkhead that had once stood there. The yellow neon sign that read, "Ride Maintenance Employees Only" was still hanging above the entrance but the bulkhead and most of the surrounding wall was gone. It looked as though the very panels of the wall had been ripped out in order to remove the entire bulkhead, watertight door and all, from the entrance. Whatever was inside must have been desperately needed by those that had been trapped inside the park.

Meanwhile, to our left, there was an open side area. When we investigated it, we found a sealed employee entrance. However, beside the bulkhead, we found a lever-style switch. As I flipped the lever up, the door audibly opened so loudly that I feared that the Splicer would come running. The moments ticked by but, luckily, none appeared.

Returning to the forcibly opened maintenance bay, I heard a male Splicer mumble to himself as if he was working on something. Upon entering the bay, I found that it had an inner ring and an outer ring layout. The outer "ring" was separated from the inner workshop by a semi-complete wall with glass panels uniformly spaced along its thin skin to allow an observer to peer into the inner workshop area.

Peering through one of the glass windows, I saw a horribly disfigured male Thuggish Splicer working on a malfunctioning sentry turret. Alpha quickly dropped the oblivious man with a headshot and we entered the inner workshop area. On top of the sideways "L" shaped work table in the center for the living room sized space, there was some cartridges of Trap Rivets, which my ally quickly grabbed.

Behind the sentry turret against the wall, I saw a ride car that appeared to have been in the process of being fixed. To my right along the wall, I saw a watertight door that strongly resembled one that an individual would find in a submarine or any other naval vessel. As I walked to the edge of the table, Eleanor chirped happily, "We found it!" Looking down at my feet, I saw a mummified man dressed in a business suit lying on his back. A pipe wrench was a few inches away from his outstretched right arm.

As I looked down at the corpse, the park's intercom system activated and a song began to pipe through its speakers. "_How much is that doggie in the window?_" Ignoring the music, I studied our surroundings. The room had two entrances. Both were compromised by the earlier forced entry by unknown individuals. However, both entrances were narrow and could easily be booby-trapped with Trap Rivets. The malfunctioning sentry gun could easily be repaired and used against the incoming hordes of Splicers. Meanwhile, there was a barrel in the far right corner and a Health Station in the far left corner. 'Hack the Health Station and turn the barrel into a bomb,' my instincts informed me.

I grunted at my brother, "Alpha, place Trap Rivets in the entrances and on the barrel. Destroy the Health Station. I will repair the sentry turret."

He grunted back, "Yes, sir."

As he moved to place the traps, I went over to the side of the sentry. Brainchild of Gilbert Alexander, the standard sentry turret was based around a M1919A4 Browning Machine Gun, which was a scaled down version of the .50 Caliber M2 Browning Machine Gun. The belt-fed, recoil-operated M1919 fired 30-06 Springfield rounds at a rate of two hundred to four hundred rounds per minute, respectively, depending upon the condition of the ammunition and the operator. Housed in a jerry-rigged revolving platform, the machine gun was perfect for suppressive fire. Upgraded variants were based around grenade launchers and even, in Minerva's Den, Ion Lasers.

I examined the sentry, which was arcing electricity around itself, and found that the electric motor was damaged from what appeared to be a small caliber gunshot and the circuit breaker on the device was preventing the machine from operating to prevent further damage. I could bypass the circuit to make the turret work for a few minutes but, shortly afterwards, the motor would fry itself and the turret would be useless. The primitive CPU would need to be reprogrammed to prevent it from attacking us. Perhaps, I could overclock its parameters to make it hostile to anything other than a Big Daddy.

In truth, I understood very little about the machine's ability to judge friend from foe. How something could be so primitive yet so advanced was beyond my ability to understand. Most of the devices in Rapture were science fiction compared to what the surface possessed. Alexander considered us to be dumb brutes so, even as products of the same company, originally, before Ryan Industries began to manufacture the sentries as well, we were not educated on the designs of the sentries.

Removing the back panel of the CPU, I found the internal parts of the sentry and "overclocked" the parameter meter, which resembled a small wheel, to target anything between a Big Daddy and a Little Sister. Then, ripping out the wire that attached the breaker between the motor and its power source, I forcefully bypassed the turret's circuit protector. I connected the wire that was connected to the battery straight into the wire that was connected to the motor.

Almost instantly, the sparking turret powered to life. Meanwhile, Alpha had finished setting up the traps and destroying the Health Station. He returned to where we were and took up position back behind the corpse in the corner so he could provide support with his Rivet Gun once the Splicer got through our initial perimeter.

Meanwhile, I would remain by Eleanor's side as she gathered from the "angel". I kneeled down to allow my charge to safely dismount. Giggling, she lowered herself to the ground. When I sensed that she had successfully dismounted, I returned to standing upright. I turned and looked down to see her pointing at the corpse with a happy smile like she had before. Meanwhile, she remarked with a playful tone, "Who watches over sleeping angels? I do, I do."

As she began to gather, my built-in radio activated. Sofia addressed me with her usual formal manner that had a hint of sympathetic understanding, "I do not hate you Delta…indeed, I care for you with equal measure to any other sentient creature, but I cannot sacrifice a thousand of my children for one rebellious son."

Maddening, burning rage erupted inside of me as my Protector Instincts rushed full force into my mind. Losing myself to my programming, I let out an ear-shattering guttural roar that vibrated the air of the decrepit amusement park to warn everyone that I was now in "protector" mode. Meanwhile, hellish red light began to emit from my eye that was so threatening in its color that even another Big Daddy would have been intimidated.

There was a part of my mind that even I was afraid of. It was the monster that I had become: Subject Delta. It almost felt like I had a Dr. Jackal and Mister Hyde personality complex. One side of me was gentle and compassionate. The other, however, was a homicidal monster that felt nothing except the desire to protect my beautiful Eleanor. I was no longer a man in those situations. I was an armored behemoth that killed anything or anyone that so much as looked at my daughter the wrong way.

Meanwhile, I heard the Splicers descending upon us. They attacked the entrance that we had used ourselves moments prior first. The sound of Trap Rivets firing and bodies hitting the hard floor filled the air. Alpha had placed them so that they fired directly into the Splicers' heads. However, this time, Sofia had put more pressure on the resident Splicers and so they were attacking in increased numbers. Within seconds, they had compromised our first layer of defenses.

The sentry turret chirped with a strange mechanical bell sound as it began to fire at the incoming Splicers. However, it could only track one target at a time. As it fired upon a Splicer that had taken cover behind the outer wall, two other Splicers left their comrade to his fate while they went to rush at my charge. Despite the rage pulsing through me, I smirked beneath my face. It amused me how Sofia believed that she had "unified" the remaining population of Rapture. You can say whatever you want to but at the end of the day, a drug addict is a drug addict.

The first Splicer, a male Leadhead wielding a haphazardly repaired revolver, rushed towards Eleanor. Growling, I electrocuted him with a blast of Electro Bolt and then quickly followed up with a swing of my drill. Giving off a pathetic whimper, the disfigured man crumpled to the ground.

My victory was short-lived as the second Splicer, a female Thuggish Splicer wielding a golf club, tried to run around me to get to Eleanor. I twisted to the left and grabbed her around her thin, scrawny neck with my massive gauntlet-encased left hand. With more Splicers pouring into the room, I unceremoniously moved my hand up the side of her skull and then crushed her head against the nearby wall.

Small caliber rounds suddenly impacted my frame but failed to penetrate my chest plate. Roaring in fury, I wheeled around to face the original entrance to find a security guard wielding a revolver. As he took cover behind the outer wall, a guard wielding a baton ran at me. As he tried to swing his baton at me, I thrust my drill's bloodied tip into the center of his face. Skull and brain matter flew out of the corpse's compromised skull.

Using Telekinesis, I levitated the corpse into the air and then propelled it straight at the other guard as he emerged from cover. He cried out in shock as the body slammed into him. The weight of his former comrade sent him collapsing to the floor. Another female Thuggish Splicer ran at me from my right. Swinging my drill from left to right, I struck her in the side of her head with the grooved side of my heavy industrial drill. Though not as sharp as the tip, the grooves protruding from the shaft of the drill bit were still sharp enough to slice open the side of her face and the force of my swing combined with the incredible weight of the drill succeeded in cracking the underlining bone.

However, to my horror, the deranged woman tumbled to ground inches to the left of Eleanor. I went to protect her, but, to my amazement, she withdrew the needle of her "toy" from the corpse and then stabbed the woman in her head before she could react. Then, without missing a beat, the controlled Little Sister continued to gather the ADAM from the corpse. I joked darkly, "Not tonight ladies and gentlemen!" Alpha laughed in response with his repeated grunts and Eleanor giggled as she continued to gather.

Seeing the guard starting to get to his feet, I levitated the pipe wrench from the side of the corpse and sent it flying into his head. The wrench struck the Splicer's head with a sick wet thud and he collapsed back onto the ground. A final Splicer tried to rush across the room but was quickly shredded by the 30-06 rounds of the M1919.

I heard the Trap Rivets by the other entrance fire as the new wave of incoming Splicers attempted to assault the other entrance. I had just twisted around to face towards it when the barrel, Alpha must have placed it just behind the entrance with a single Trap Rivet imbedded into it facing the open pathway, exploded. Letting Alpha and the machine gun handle the incoming Splicers, I remained by Eleanor just in case a Splicer managed to get through the withering fire of my ally and the turret.

At least six Splicers, mostly Leadhead security guards, tried to force their way to Eleanor but Alpha's lethal marksmanship and the turret's steady spray of rounds quickly cut them down within half a minute of their arrival. As the last Splicer fell to the floor, Eleanor stood as she chirped happily, "Daddy, I'm ready."

My Protector Instincts returned to the back of my mind and my eye returned to emitting golden yellow light. I looked down at her just in time to see her place the end of her needle into my right thigh and inject ADAM into my body. Strength flooded my system as the genetic substance flowed through my body. It would be so easy to become addicted to the feeling of fresh ADAM entering your body. However, as I merely needed ADAM as food, I was immune to the addictive properties of the corrupting substance. It would be like someone becoming addicted to apples. I could sense that I almost had enough to splice Incinerate! into my body. I had to deal with Little Sister herself to get the rest.

Sure enough, as Eleanor climbed back onto her throne on my back, Sinclair addressed me through my radio, "All right chief, we've almost got enough ADAM now. To get the rest, you'll have to take care o' that Little Sister. There should one of the air vents that they favor in the workshop. Bring her down there."

After scavenging the bodies, which resulted in twenty dollars for both of us, we began to make our way to the workshop. Around the corner from the room that we had been in, we came upon a female Leadhead Splicer in tattered formal attire and with a bunny mask covering her face. She was painting on the wall with a paint brush as if she was in a trance. So oblivious was the Splicer that the presence of two Big Daddies failed to register with her. Before she knew what was happening, Alpha terminated her with a single headshot.

As we passed by her, I glanced at the wall and saw that she had written the message, "WE WILL BE REBORN" in white house paint on the wall. I pitied the woman for a moment. Perhaps, beneath that unbreakable homicidal desperation, the Splicers had grown tired of the miserable slog of daily survival. Maybe that was why they listened to Sofia: they just wanted it all to stop. Who could blame them for wanting some nice words and an occasionally warm meal?

As we passed another Ryan automaton, I asked Alpha, "Do you ever miss?"

He grunted back, "Sometimes, sir. After a while, it feels like breathing…don't really have to think about it."

I paused as I noticed that this was the spot that I had seen the Little Sister. I recognized the corpse back behind the automaton to the right. Glancing towards the wall where I had looked out at the little girl, I was somewhat unnerved to see that someone had drawn the curtain shut. However, noticing that I was unnerved, Alpha explained, "That was me, sir. I was working on my Rivet Gun and I did not want a random Splicer to see me."

Immense relief filled me as well as slight embarrassment that such a minor thing had gotten to me. I heard Eleanor giggle quietly. In response, I let out a curt grunt. She replied, "The man on the moon is a girl, Daddy." I mentally sighed and hoped that Eleanor had grown out of the habit of talking like a Little Sister. Unlike our grunts and calls, which did have meaning, our charges' rants were sometimes actually unintelligent nonsense caused by the slug inside of them. Such statements made as little sense to us as it did to the casual observer.

Around the corner from the automaton, we came to the second scare. A derailed car blocked our path so we had to wait for the scene to play out so we could move through the set in order to continue on towards the workshop. The scene was a mock-up of a science lab. There, in the center, was a scientist working at his station. A light illuminated him from above as Ryan preached, "On the surface, a scientist invests the power of his mind into a single, miraculous idea…" At that moment, the automaton's arms raised up over his head to imitate an individual celebrating his triumph. Meanwhile, the platform that the machine was mounted to began to rise up into the air.

"…and naturally begins to rise above his fellows. But the parasites say _NO!_" At that moment, a large hand of "big government" lowered down from the ceiling above the scientist automaton. Red light bathed the area as the hand began to "push" the scientist back down as he lowered his arms down to his sides to imitate disappoint and heartbreak. Ryan continued, "Discovery must be regulated! It must be controlled! And finally, surrendered!"

When the scene had played out, Eleanor asked, "Daddy…"

I groaned before I explained, "Scientific discovery has a way of…backfiring…if not handled correctly."

She asked with a timid voice, "Like _the _bomb?"

I replied, "Yeah, kid…like the bomb. Sometimes…just because you can doesn't mean that you should. Remember that, Eleanor."

After moving through the second scare, we soon came to the third. This one was about censorship. However, as our path was clear and none of us really cared about such things, we pressed on rather than observing it. Finally, as we turned another corner and approached a third Ryan automaton, I saw the sign that indicated that we had reached the workshop.

Upon seeing the sign, Eleanor remarked with a yawn, "Yay…hidey hole." I smiled slightly beneath my armored, emotionless face.

As I crossed the threshold of the entrance to the workshop, my radio activated. Sinclair addressed me, "Now Tenenbaum would have you turn that Sister human again. You'll get just enough ADAM for our purposes, an' the girls'll likely try to repay you somehow. But Rapture's a high-stakes town, son – an' she's a jackpot. You'll harvest more ADAM than the price of one plasmid…so the rest is gravy. Think about it…down here, it's your survival or her's."

Having heard everything that he had said, Eleanor asked with a frightened tone, "D-Daddy? I-I've b-been good haven't I?"

I noticed that the edge to the girl's voice was gone and realized that it was the Little Sister, not Eleanor, that had addressed me with such a frightened tone. My heart went out to the little girl that had willingly gone along with this bizarre arrangement of being my real Little Sister's "vessel" so that we could spend this time together. She was so innocent, trusting, and naïve that it had never crossed her warped little mind that her "big sister"Eleanor, and Mister Bubbles would consider harming her.

Seconds later, Eleanor's personality returned to the Little Sister as she said with her robotic voice, "Father, what you said before…"

I interrupted, "Just because you can doesn't mean that you should, Eleanor. I shall rescue them all."

She asked, "Because you are a protector or because of morality?"

I replied, "Neither. Some things should not need a reason to justify them."

She remarked, "I don't understand."

I assured her, "You will in time, my daughter." By then, we had reached the lower level of the workshop. Much to my displeasure, the majority of the floor was flooded and we were forced to endure the ankle-high frigid water to reach the Little Sister Vent on the other end of the "C" shaped path. As we reached a Vita-Chamber in the center part of the "C", luckily, we found dry ground.

Beyond the chamber, I saw the vent. It had chalk drawings of smiling green stars and a doddle of a gathering tool around it. Meanwhile, I saw a plush doll down by the base of it along with a First Aid Kit. Before, this would have been the point where I assisted my Eleanor in getting to the hole so she could return to where her other sisters went to sleep. Though near the end, she refused to return to the vent and insisted upon staying with me instead.

It put me in an awkward position but I quickly began to enjoy having her sleeping form nuzzled against my chest as we both rested in whatever temporary shelter I had found. No one in their right mind would disturb a Big Daddy that was protecting a sleeping Little Sister so there was never any problems. My captors had removed my ability and need to sleep so I spent my time thinking about various things as well as tending to my drill. How Eleanor found my armored chest comfortable enough to sleep against, I did not know.

Naturally, we had to go to where they forced her to regurgitate the ADAM that we had gathered every so often so that they did not get suspicious. As a Little Sister, Eleanor was supposed to not be able to remember anything about who she was or even really be aware of what was happening around her. If they had found out that she was still aware of who she was, beyond her name of course, they would have deemed her a "failure" and disposed of both of us. It was our little secret that we both kept from everyone else.

As I reached the vent, my charged yawned, "Hidey hole…" Gently, I removed her from her throne on my back with my left hand. Meanwhile, I also pointed my drill to the left. Using the section of my right arm just before my elbow as a seat for her posterior, I held the little girl out in front of me. Her angelic marble-like face held a goofy expression as she tried to understand what I was doing as she also fought to stay awake.

What the majority of Rapture did not know was that the condition was not permanent or incurable. The sea slug inside of them was the cause of their condition, at least physically. The brainwashing did the rest. Tenenbaum had developed a Plasmid that killed the sea slug inside of them without hurting them during my time. While she had been tinkering with my genes, she had given me the ability so I simply had it as a "natural" ability without the need of an injected Plasmid.

Focusing, I willed the ability to activate. A bright white light began to emit out the palm of my ported left hand. Slowly, I lowered the palm of my left hand onto the top of her dirty head. As my hand made contact with her, a bright flash of light overwhelmed my vision. As it did, I felt the ADAM in her body flow into me as the slug was killed.

When my vision returned, I saw the confused, but happy little brunette girl look up at me with normal eyes that were surrounded by dark rings from the ordeal that she had endured for however long it had been since her forced conversion into a Little Sister. She began to clasp her hands together as she audibly thanked me for "rescuing" her. However, my radio activated and Sinclair's voice prevented me from hearing her as he said, "Well, our tin man had a heart all along. Personally, I call that a liability - but you have enough ADAM now…barely. Head to the Hall of the Future an' splice up with Incinerate."

Meanwhile, I had been helping the little girl reach the hole of the vent. She disappeared as she retreated into the vent network and, hopefully, began to make her way to a safe house set up by Tenenbaum or, perhaps, Eleanor. I hoped for the latter because the little girl had the baseball that Eleanor wanted to use to build a new Big Daddy doll.

The feeling of bliss entered my mind and I eagerly submitted to my beautiful master. She addressed me, "I hope we get to play again soon, Father. Don't worry, I have made arrangements with Tenenbaum. The girls will be looked after."

I asked her with my former life's gruff voice, "You knew that I would save them before you revived me didn't you, Eleanor?"

She replied with her hypnotic voice, "Of course, Topside. I know the kind of man that you are. When we get to the surface…we can have our own little girl."

I could have sworn that I felt a bead of sweat trickle down the right side of my face as she revealed her desire to have a child with me. I scolded her, "Young lady, you are too young to be thinking like that. Also, that is a very inappropriate thing to say to your Father."

Personally, I was not sure if I was even still physically capable of fathering a child because I had never been brave enough to examine that particular area of my body after my conversion into an Alpha Series Big Daddy to see if everything was still intact. Considering that I no longer felt the urge to urinate, I did not desire to know what else was different. I still thought of myself as a man and I really wanted to be able to continue thinking that I was one. I guess no matter how old a man was, some things about his mindset never changed.

Eleanor huffed before she replied with a disturbingly calm voice, "Oh Topside…resisting me only makes it more enjoyable…for me, that is. You forget…you are my protector…I can make you do whatever I want you to do." Then, she finished with a cheerful tone, "Anyway, go splice Incinerate, Father. The surface won't wait forever."

The feeling left my mind and I found myself back in the lower level of the workshop. I turned to look at my brother, who seemed to be exiting his own trance from communicating with Emily. He grunted, "They grow up so fast, huh, sir?"

I replied, "Yeah…let's get to the Hall of the Future and get the hell out of here."

He said, "Right behind you, brother." Together, we began to make our way out of the lower level and back to the main level of the workshop.


	8. Chapter 8: A man with no face

Ch. 8: A man with no face

A.N.:

Damn you college!

Sorry everyone. Forgive the long wait. Rest assured, I am working on my stories. I will finish this and the others. Have faith :)

Anyway, I hope the wait was worth it.

Read and review if you want.

* * *

As we made our way up the staircase that had streams of water flowing down its rubble-strewn steps, my honed senses detected the faintest traces of movement in the workshop above. I caught a faint scent of aged leather and corroding metal that was mixed with the once sweet aroma of a Little Sister that had turned bitter sweet. There was no mistaking that smell: a Big Sister. Sorrow flooded me as I remembered the one that I had unintentionally pursued earlier.

The city had gone and turned those sweet, innocent little girls into monsters. Yes, the cursed slugs inside of them made them look otherworldly but it was the cruelty of Suchong that conditioned them into blood-drinking gathers. However, any fool that bothered to take half a second to observe them could tell that they were still children. What kind of hell in their own minds could have turned them into these feral creatures?

The scent faded until it was gone. She must have retreated to continue keeping tabs on us for Sofia from a distance. Her presence was replaced by something even more mentally unbalanced. I could hear them scurrying about like rats in a maze as they set about getting ready to pounce on us like we were hapless prey that had been boxed into a corner. I growled slightly in irritation. Why would these fools not take a hint? We may not have been as physically imposing as the tin men but we were still Big Daddies.

As we neared the top of the staircase, I became aware of music being played from some source inside the workshop. "_It's the dawn of a new day!_" Upon reaching the landing, I saw a Splicer retreat to the far end of the area as she dragged her golf club's metal tip along the ground, giving off sparks as she did. Through the sheet of reinforced safety glass, I observed the barrel of a Thompson sticking up from behind the long worktable in the next area of the workshop. Along the top of the table in a line were a row of faded, weathered heads for the park's automatons and I noticed that one of them seemed a little too lifelike. I mentally sighed once again.

Taking point, I entered the workshop with Alpha following behind me far enough to be able to aim around me. As I did, the male security guard Leadhead Splicer wielding the Thompson stood up from where he had been crouching behind the worktable. Knowing better than to allow the deranged former park employee to fire his modified Thompson at me from such short range, where only the most incompetent individual could fail to score critical hits on the seven foot tall monster of metal and canvas stomping towards him, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from my ported left hand into the man.

The electrical discharge left him sputtering convoluted profanities as he convulsed in agony. Capitalizing on his temporary vulnerability, I rushed forward and then thrust my industrial-grade mining drill's tip straight into the center of the Splicer's head. The sound of cracking bone filled the air as my blow easily compromised the man's skull. However, the man's body had no sooner crumpled to the ground in a heap before multiple small caliber rounds impacted my armored from.

I growled as one of the rounds scored a hit on the lightly armored canvas area beneath the armor plate of my chest and penetrated my hide to inflict internal damage. Luckily, the only vital organs located outside my area of protection were of my digestive track and I no longer needed them any more than I had needed my appendix when I was still a true human. The red liquid from the tank on my back would ensure that there was no internal hemorrhaging or bacterial poisoning of the surrounding tissue that would send me into shock.

Two revolver-wielding Leadhead Splicers rushed into the room. A third Splicer, the golf club-wielding former aristocratic woman that I had seen earlier, followed close behind them as she screamed, "Ridiculous!" Meanwhile, the music continued to play as if to add a rather unnerving aspect to this encounter with the denizens of Rapture. "_Here we come one and all! There can be no resisting…_" I revved my drill and thrust its whirling bit into the unarmored and disfigured chest of the nearest Leadhead Splicer as she attempted to pistol whip me with the cracked grip of her revolver.

She screamed in pure misery as my weaponized mining tool made short work of her torso. After powering down my drill, I flung the corpse into the second Leadhead Splicer. Meanwhile, Alpha had swiftly neutralized the Thuggish Splicer with two rivets to the woman's throat and then to the center of her face. "_It's the dawn of a new day!_" I flattened the skull of the downed Splicer with the bottom of my weighted right foot.

From the far end of the next room, two final Leadhead Splicers wielding Thompsons began to open up on us. As the storm of hot lead whizzed past my head, I forced my will into one of the Splicer corpses. As a miasma surrounded my gauntlet-encased left hand, I levitated the body into the air. Turning to face the two Splicers, I used the body as a shield momentarily before launching it at them.

The corpse hit home around their legs. As the two individuals collapsed face-first onto the hard floor, I charged towards them with my drill poised to deliver the final blow. The heavy weight of my diving boots cracked the floor beneath me as I moved with a speed that the lumbering tin men could only dream of achieving. They never had a chance. Having dealt with the Splicers, we both exited the workshop.

With the amount of fresh ADAM inside of my body, I would finally be able to purchase Incinerate. We needed to find a way out of the ride and back to the main area of the park. There, it would be a short trip to the Hall of the Future and its Gather's Garden Vending Machine. Obviously, we could have simply gone back to the entrance that we had used to enter the ride. My instincts warned me against that, however.

With that Big Sister now stalking us from the shadows, it was wiser to continue moving forward because, as a general rule, a stalking predator would opt to follow her target rather than to risk incorrectly predicting its path and thus losing the target. We were cat and mouse now. Question was: who was the cat and who was the mouse?

This whole situation was disgusting. Sofia had many things to answer for but the Big Sisters were number two on that list. Their conditioning had made them mentally fragile but it was the lack of a strong parental figure that had likely sent them over the edge until these broken creatures were all that were left of the original Little Sisters. The ones that had been bonded to the Tin Men were likely cast aside by their former guardians as they reached adolescence because the new hormones released during puberty had altered their chemical pheromone signature. The Tin Men responded only to the pheromone signature of Little Sisters.

It had not been personal. The Mass Production Models were essentially machines and the machines had failed to recognize the crying, confused teenagers as the little girls that they had once protected with their lives. The already fragile psyches of the blossoming teenage girls, compounded by the fact that their conditioning made them unable to understand what was happening to their bodies, was broken when "Mr. Bubbles" heartlessly pushed them aside, or worse, as they tried to interact with the lumbering giants as they had when they were little girls.

All they needed was a protector to hold them and tell them that what was happening to them was natural and that there was nothing to be afraid of. Knowing Sofia, the poor girls had probably been locked up like animals and made to feel like they were freaks. I felt an intense stab of fury enter my mind. How dare the city treat these girls like this?! They were the closest thing to royalty in this godforsaken place.

I could only imagine the pain that it would cause them to fight us. In their warped minds, we were probably still father figures to them. Not wanting to waste time, we continued past the third "scare", a scene with two parents having their child taken away by the hand of "big government" as they all watched television, while it played out. With the main path blocked by rubble, we had to go through the workshop just beyond the third "scare".

Upon entering the room, I saw a male Splicer attempting to vandalize a Power to the People machine that was against the far wall opposite the entrance. To my immediate left was a wooden shelf. A rather large circular flood lamp with a metal protective grate over it was mounted into the center of the ceiling. A worktable was located near the left wall. Beyond it, I saw the path that led to the next room.

I mentally sighed once again as I saw that the entire floor of the section of the room, including the rubble-strewn side room off to the right, was flooded. As a result, the Splicer was standing in ankle-high water. Protected by the concrete landing that I was standing on, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into the water.

The man screamed in agony as blue electrical arcs danced around his body for a moment before he collapsed to the floor. I hesitated for a moment as I looked at the water before I forced myself onward. Doing my best to ignore the icy sting of the Atlantic, I pondered my next attachment to my drill. I had increased the damage capability of my drill to its mechanically maximum threshold. Unfortunately, the increased torque had increased my fuel consumption.

Thinking back to the gun mounts on the _Fletcher-class_ destroyer that I had served on during the war, I remembered that we had encountered similar issues with the rotational wear on them. The mounts themselves were perfectly fine but the increased armor and weight of the guns following an upgrade while the ship had been dry-docked had caused more friction and, thus, an increase in wear. Perhaps, if I installed a lubrication system that would douse the section where the bit met the mount whenever I revved up the drill, it would offset the increase in torque by reducing the friction.

What would be the lubricant? It could not be anything petroleum based because the whirling bit and fossil fuel powered motor occasionally caused excessive heat. It would have to be synthetic and polymer-based to prevent turning my arm into a torch. Where the hell was I going to find something like that around this dump? For that matter, the design that I had in my head would require another tank on my person to work. I could not compromise my mobility; mobility was crucial for my kind to survive.

Was I over-thinking the idea? How did a city of geniuses end up having armored champions that were someone like me? Perhaps, I could use the same fuel that powered the motor. That would work as it neither required a new tank nor a specialized design. However, such a lubrication system would defeat its own purpose: reducing the fuel consumption of the drill. Moreover, I would still need a new fluid to dilute the fuel to prevent it from igniting if the drill bit became too hot.

Looking down at the icy sea water, I suddenly had an inspiration: water. My drill was a left-over tool from Rapture's construction that had been repurposed as a weapon. The metal was an alloy that allowed the drill to be exposed to sea water for extended periods of time. Given the deteriorated state of the city, I had little doubt that sea water was in plentiful supply. The only concern was that the mounts themselves, the ones that allowed me to attach or remove the drill over my right hand, were jerry-rigged by the engineers at Fontaine Futuristics during my construction and were not part of the original tool. The sea water could pool in the gaps between the mounts and could potentially fused them together, thus rendering it impossible for me to remove my drill from over my hand, if it reacted to the blood that would inevitably cover my drill.

However, seeing no other alternative that I could use in the short amount of time that I had to reach Eleanor before our bond sent me into irreversible madness, I detached my drill from my right hand and then used the vending machine to rig a series of nozzles in a ring around the edge of the point where the bit met the mount. The drill already had cut notches for such a system, the issue had been what substance to use as a lubricant. Like a chainsaw, the drill had a small reserve tank located on the side for lubricant. Typically, mineral oil would, and should have, been used to lubricate the bit but as mineral oil was now all but gone in Rapture, I would have to modify the tank and lines to use the icy waters of the Atlantic. I smirked slightly as I realized that, if nothing else, the new layer of salt coating the bit would make my strikes even more painful for the fool that had dared to attack me. Even better, it would be a delayed agonizing sensation that would afflict my target should it retreat.

My modifications were crude but I succeeded in rigging the lubrication system. I remounted my drill over my right hand and then opened the small hatch for the reserve tank with my left hand. After moving away from the vending machine so that Alpha could modify his Rivet Gun, I bent down and scooped up some of the water that was flooding the room. When I had a full tank, I resealed the hatch with my left hand. I then stood up and looked over to my brother.

After attaching a pressure line with a gauge on it to his tool, he retrieved his Prototype Rivet Gun from the machine. I smirked as I saw that he had not only increased his weapon's clip size, before it resembled a cylindrical container but now it was rectangular in shape, but that he had also modified his weapon to recycle the heat from firing the projectiles back into the weapon chamber to superheat the remaining rivets, hence the new pressure hose that wrapped around the exterior of the tool with a pressure gauge sticking up so that the wielder could see it. With each successive shot, the projectiles would get hotter and hotter.

The barrel of the rivet gun and the rivets themselves were both made of high quality steel alloys that were extremely tolerant of high temperatures, far more than what typical steel was capable of withstanding. All the tools used to construct Rapture were extremely durable because they were building a city at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. The Rivet Guns used by the Rosies were left-overs from the construction and the Prototype Rivet Guns were modified versions that had been repurposed as combat weapons.

I grunted, "Brilliant idea, brother. Subtle and brutal…I think that there is a sadistic side to you that you are keeping hidden from the rest of us."

He replied with a modest tone, "Survival of the most sadistic, sir. You taught us that. '_Give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach a man how to fish, he eats for a lifetime. Give your enemy a taste of pain, he leaves you alone for a day. Teach your enemy to fear the pain, he leaves you alone for a lifetime_.'"

I smiled slightly beneath my face as I remembered demonstrating the concept of fear to my brothers over the course of three days in the Plasmid Theater in Fontaine Futuristics. The first day, I simply killed my opponents swiftly. The next day, I pointed out to my brothers, who would watch from backstage, how my new enemies did not fear me. During that match, I killed them all as slowly as possible to ensure that the others would hear their screams of agony. The next day, the new group of beggars, plasmid trial rejects, and criminals had to be forced onto the stage at gun point, conveniently out of sight of the crowd of course, and they cowered in the corners of the room literally paralyzed by their own fear of what I could do to them. It was brutal and disgusting, but so was our job. Those that would harm our daughters deserved no mercy from us.

As we continued on to the next room, I found a female Splicer dressed in tattered formal attire sitting in a peeling wooden chair in front of a wall safe. Upon noticing me, she jumped up, kicked the chair behind her, and yelled, "You can't take my furs! Never!" As she raised her golf club over her right shoulder, I revved up my drill. Sea water began to douse the whirling bit as the powerful motor roared. Ordinary mining drills had cause to fear the halite minerals in ocean water, but my drill had been purposely designed so simplistic that it was damn near indestructible.

As she jumped at me while swinging her melee weapon, I sent the whirling, razor sharp point of my drill straight into her right arm. In a matter of seconds, the surprised Thuggish Splicer's arm was ripped to shreds. Screaming and pressing the strings of bloodied flesh that were hanging from her now useless limb back against the remains of the arm with her left hand, she dropped her weapon and ran out of the room. I powered down my drill and stopped my brother as he attempted to pursue her.

He twisted his torso so that he was looking at me with his golden yellow segmented eye. I explained with a series of grunts, "Let her go. She will tell the rest of them about the pain we can cause."

He replied, "Yes, sir." After ripping the safe door off its hinges, I found that the Splicer's "furs" were one hundred dollars, some trap rivets, and two strange light bulb-looking objects that I ignored. I gave Alpha fifty dollars and the trap rivets before we continued forward. Upon exiting the workshop, we turned the corner to find a large shipping crate blocking most of the path. A lit burn barrel was in front of it casting shadows against the already morbid surroundings. To the left, inside the small side slot in the wall, were two bed mattresses.

Going around the shipping crate through the side slot, I found that there were small shipping crates that had been stacked to create a makeshift defensive line. More or less kicking the crates out of my way, I cleared the path and continued forward. To the right just beyond the barrier was a shop façade with the name "Disease" above the door. Red light bathed the façade to draw the attention of the long gone amusement park customers. The ceiling beyond the façade had partially collapsed and we had to squeeze past the debris.

As we turned the corner, a male Leadhead Splicer yelled at us from behind yet another shipping crate that was in the center of the path. To the left, sea water was pouring into the area through a large circular grate that was against the wall. Mounted high up on the right wall was a security camera, its red beam illuminating the left wall as the device passively scanned the area. Beside the Splicer to the left was a red metal barrel.

Before we could engage the Splicer, he screamed, "Sorry, doc. Salvation ain't worth towin' it with no Alpha Daddy!" He took off down the path like hell on wheels. I smirked at the sight. They were finally starting to remember their place. I let out a loud guttural roar after the fleeing Splicer, which succeeded in causing the panicked Splicer to cry out in terror and run even faster.

Laughing with repeated grunts, we continued forward, making sure to avoid the security camera's search beam. Around the next corner, we were met by the sight of a heavily vandalized Ryan automaton. The machine was ripped apart and dangling from the ceiling above the desk by a metal cable as if it had been "hanged". On the wall behind the desk, in white house paint, was the message, "Reject the tyranny of the Self." Below it was the message, "Rapture failed. We Will Not." On the wall to the left of the destroyed automaton were the messages, "Lamb will Lead The Way," and "The end of RYAN is the end of the SELF."

My brother let out a long grunt that sounded like a sigh. I waited patiently. After a moment, he said, "Lamb…came out the woodwork about two years after the New Year's Eve Riots. Ryan was killed by that fool that had infiltrated his clubhouse…Fontaine was killed by some Rosie Tin Daddy a few hours later up near Point Prometheus…there was no one left to run the city. It was awful, sir. I had to keep us in the shadows to protect Emily. The majority of the Little Sisters were suddenly gone for some reason. The few that were left…it was a nightmare…slaughter…they didn't have a chance."

He paused for a moment and then continued, "We both nearly starved to death so many times that I lost count…it just wasn't safe for her to gather…damned Splicers had turned corpses into traps. Ended up having to grab corpses and then run off to a secluded safehouse used by Fontaine's smugglers before the Civil War. I had found it and fixed the lockdown mechanism…the only way…the Splicers ran in huge packs like wolves...they would rush the Tin Men like hyena attacking an elephant. Worse, they would seal off the vent network but keep one open. Then, they would divert the scalding steam from the geothermic generators into the networks and drive the girls from the vent and pounce on them. I kept Emily with me after we saw them doing that. I wanted to help her sisters but I would have put Emily in danger so…I…made a choice…the Little Ones that survived long enough for Lamb to take control of the city weren't right in the head…how could they have been?"

I listened in silence as he continued, "Say what you want about Sofia, sir, but she did save Rapture from itself…not that it deserved to be saved. I nearly had a submersible fixed up when she set up that blasted torpedo system to prevent anyone from coming or going. By then, Emily was beginning to go through puberty. I assured her that nothing was wrong with her and that she wasn't a freak. She was just growing into an adult. Then…one day…Lamb's Splicers and Big Daddies assaulted the safehouse. I don't know how they found us. I fought back…so did Emily…but…there were too many…took her from me."

He paused for a moment, the pain clearly evident in his posture and tone, before he continued, "When I regained consciousness, I was in a holding cell up in Persephone. I broke out but it was too late. When I found Emily, she was a Big Sister…the first one. By then though, Lamb had nearly a dozen. That bitch Sofia ordered them to kill me. I don't know how, but I managed to escape and then found a way back into Rapture. I fought Lamb for years from the shadows…killing her followers…hacking security cameras…turrets…only so much I could do alone though."

The silence was nearly unbearable but I wanted him to get it off his chest so I continued to listen. Absentmindedly examining his Prototype Rivet Gun, he continued, "The fucking Tin Daddies were her slaves…she sent them after me…for nearly a year, they tried to hunt me down like a rat before they were given new Little Sisters to protect…plus I had to look out for the Big Sisters since Lamb had ordered them to kill me on sight. Emily would sneak rations of ADAM to me but I never saw her…just the teddy bears with the little boxes…she would leave notes with the vials of ADAM that said that she still thought of me as her knight and wanted to be with me again. It was her own ADAM…so our bond remained intact…but only just barely…they nearly severed it when they turned her into a Big Sister. Without my Protector Instincts, I could not fight my back to Persephone…the Fontaine building that you have to go through is the home of madmen…tried several times but never could get through it."

He finished, "A few months ago, Tenenbaum returned to the city. Found me one day…explained that she needed my help…explained that she and Eleanor could bring you back…all they needed was ADAM…lots of it…that and your body. I knew where your body was…I found it and informed the remaining Alpha Series that you were gone…those of us that had survived the riots…we created a kind of memorial…I told Tenenbaum where it was and started gathering ADAM with a Little Sister that Tenenbaum had reconditioned to see me as her father."

Knowing the rest of the story, I assured him, "We'll get them back…I promise." I turned to continue forward but then paused. I turned back to look at him and then said, "Thank you for that…I'm sorry that you and Emily went through that alone."

He laughed slightly before he replied, "No problem, sir. I am just glad that it worked. Now, we can put the bitch back in her straight jacket and let Emily and Eleanor see the Sun."

I smirked beneath my face before I said, "Come on, they're waiting for us." We continued onward. Past the vandalized Ryan automaton, we finally came to the end of the ride where the mockup of the Lighthouse was located. Two ride cars blocked the exit so we had to go through the employee access to the left of the Lighthouse. The door was long gone so we proceeded through the open passageway as we ignored the two crying Splicers that had fled from us as they cowered in the far corner. Two filing cabinets were against the left wall where they had fallen on top of each other. Turning right, we made our way through the winding side route and eventually came to a lever switch.

I could see the loading/unloading station for the ride cars below us through decorative glass panels. With the exit sealed, I lowered the master override lever that would open all of the remaining security gates. The automatic lockdown mechanism of the park must have sealed the bulkheads when the power had been cut years prior. As the sound of opening security bulkheads rumbled throughout the park, we exited the employee access area and finally found ourselves back at the entrance to the ride.

However, as we arrived at the entrance, I heard a man yell, "Come on choppers! Tear this place down!" It was the last of Sofia's Hit Squad. A female Leadhead Splicer appeared around the first corpse that we had gathered from. Before she could fire her modified submachine gun, my brother dropped her with a headshot. Meanwhile, a male Thuggish Splicer rushed through the entrance to the park. I caught his right wrist as he tried to swing his pipe wrench at me. Before he could react, I swung my drill's razor sharp point into his head. Dropping the bloodied mass onto a heap on the floor, I scanned the area for the rest of the assassins. However, to my surprise, only one final Leadhead Splicer appeared before us. Quickly, my brother neutralized her as well.

The entire main building was eerily quiet as we made our way upstairs. I could hear our heavy bootfalls echoing throughout the entire park, yet no movement replied back. Had all the Splicers fled? Granted, there were not that many Splicers within the park's walls to begin with but I had never encountered a section of Rapture this empty and hollow. Or, as I began to suspect, had the inhabitants fled from the park like rats from a sinking ship because they knew that the Big Sister was about to make her move?

We reached the second floor and made it to the entrance to the Hall of the Future before I finally heard a Splicer. As the decorative watertight bulkhead to the hall raised up to allow us to access the section beyond, I heard a man complain, "Rusted pile of junk! You broke it didn't you Edna?" The voice was coming from up ahead. With my drill at the ready and with blue electrical arcs dancing around my ported left hand, I pushed onward.

Upon reaching the top of the second flight of stairs, I heard a woman reply to the man, "Me? You're mean Roger! It was probably your fat hands that loused it up!"

The second bulkhead opened to reveal two Splicers in the room beyond. The man was attempting to repair a malfunctioning sentry turret while the woman was pacing around him with a revolver held in her right hand. Along the top of the walls on either side of them were television monitors that advertised various plasmids with the cartoon descriptions of them. I could not help but smile slightly as the man retorted, "Typical broad! Don't complain about things that you don't know nothing about!"

At times, it seemed like, despite their horrible mutations and mental instability, the Splicers could yet be saved from themselves. Truly, they often displayed signs of humanity in both their dialogue and actions. I had even seen what one might risk to suggest being pleas for help. That within itself suggested that there was still something to save in their ADAM ravaged shells. They were unstable, but they were still sane enough to know that they were not sane. As I had begun to suspect, the reason why the remaining inhabitants followed Lamb with cult-like fanaticism was that, in her, they saw a chance to be, as they put it: reborn.

Charging forward, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt in the woman. With his guard temporarily immobilized, I took aim at the man. As he reached for his Thompson, which was on the floor next to him along with a red toolbox, I thrust my drill's point straight into the side of his head. Brain matter and bits of bone flew out of his compromised skull as his body collapsed into a heap on top of the toolbox and weapon. Meanwhile, my brother had neutralized the female Splicer.

I heard a clicking noise and realized that the turret was actually functional except that the ammunition belt was jammed inside the housing. The result was an almost comical sight of a turret swiveling around to aim at me but only emitting a clicking sound as it attempted to fire its rounds at me. Leaving the turret, we continued towards the vending machine, which I could see on the other side of a large glass window in the left corner. Ahead of us, I saw what remained of the wall-sized advertisement for plasmids. Several sections of the "father's" left arm were burned, a section around the little girl's face looked like it had been ripped away from the wall, and near the bottom of the advertisement around the phrase "The Wondrous World of Rapture" were several more sections that had been burned.

As we proceeded passed the bulkhead to the right of the advertisement, we were met by the sight of a Big Sister glaring at us just outside the nearby glass panels as she was perched on a rocky outcropping. She continued to glare at us with her hellish red circular eye for a moment before she suddenly jumped up, floated upwards a few feet, and then swiftly swam down out of sight. I was certain that that was not the same Big Sister that had been stalking us inside the park because I could sense her presence somewhere behind us.

How many Big Sisters did Sofia have keeping tabs on us? What was she waiting for? In our present state, we would be outmatched if we encountered several of the lithe protectors. We would only be getting stronger. Now was the time to eliminate us. Why was she hesitating? Did she hope that we would "see the error of our ways" and become loyal to the Family? She was in for a rude surprise if she did indeed hope for such a thing. Our only loyalty was too our bonded masters and to the Little Sisters.

As we rounded the corner, my built-in radio activated. Sofia, surprisingly, addressed both of us, "So…you two would drain the people of their life's blood? Rapture is a body Delta…Alpha. I am the voice…and Big Sister is the hand. When Rapture speaks of you - it says only this: Sleep now. Your day is done."

When my radio deactivated, I grunted in disgust, "Your day is done? The Alpha Series are NOT DONE! Not as long as I have something to say about it!" I felt my anger rising dangerously. Your day is done?! Who the hell did Sofia think she was?!

My brother grunted in approval, "Right on, sir! Let's go burn that woman's little clubhouse to the ground!"

Pressing on past the bust of Andrew Ryan and the automatons that were set up to mimic a party scene and a romantic evening, we finally came to the Gather's Garden Vending Machine. I placed my gauntlet-encased left hand inside the little slot of the machine. Moments later, a needle was injected into my hand so the machine could calculate how much fresh ADAM was inside my body and therefore what I could afford to splice. The needle retracted from my hand and I examined the illuminated selections that the machine had allotted me from the amount of freshly gathered ADAM.

I could choose between Incinerate!, Health Upgrade, and EVE Link. Using the metal tipped index finger of my left hand, I selected Incinerate. A loud metal clanging sound came from the machine before a glowing red container of Incinerate emerged from the vending slot. Using telekinesis and an empty hypo needle, I collected a sample of the plasmid and then injected it through the IV Port on my left arm. This time, I only felt a sense of mild discomfort for a few seconds before jets of fire emerged from my ported fingertips and palm. I noticed that the metal ports were also now glowing red hot from the flame that was emitting from them.

I smirked with satisfaction before willing the flames to die down. When they had, I returned to the selections and pressed the Health Upgrade option. The container that was vended was neither glowing red nor blue. Instead, it was eggshell white, meaning it was neither a plasmid nor a gene tonic. Unlike the other two product lines, the products like Health Upgrade did not destabilize one's genetic sequence if he or she overindulged in them. As long as I had the ADAM and the vending machines had the upgrades, I could increase my health indefinitely without suffering genetic damage.

Not wanting to use the rest of my ADAM on EVE Link, I opted to conserve what I had left to put towards further upgrades. I turned towards my brother and motioned questioningly at the Gather's Garden. He replied, "No thank you, sir. I'm alright for now." With Incinerate! finally spliced, I turned and headed back towards the train station to melt the ice.

As I left the vending machine, a man's recorded voice announced, "Congratulations on your recent purchase of the Incinerate Plasmid. Say, Tom here is enjoying a romantic evening with a gal. What could impress her more than lighting the fireplace with a snap of your fingers?" Having tested prototypes for Incinerate!, I was easily able to will a fireball directly into the logs in the fireplace. After I did, I growled in discomfort as my EVE Tank refilled my body's reserve. The nauseating sound of suction filled the air as the new glowing collection of EVE entered my body through the IV line running along the interior of my left arm.

As the sensation passed, I noticed that an oil slick at the base of the fireplace had been ignited by my genetic flames. The trail of fire continued up to engulf "Tom" and his "gal" where they were on the couch. As the flames destroyed the two automatons, Eleanor taunted me through our bond, "_Having trouble controlling your…ahem...fire, Topside? Did you get it all over the place you naughty boy?_"

I retorted, "_It's not my fault that whoever set up this thing used petroleum-soaked logs! By the way, highly inappropriate language young lady. Respect your elders._"

She asked smugly, "_What about Mother?_"

I replied, "_No, of course not. Sofia is a homicidal bitch._"

She faked shock as she asked, "_Did Papa just call Momma a bad word?_"

I retorted, "_Eleanor, your Mother has tried to kill me again several times in the past few hours…I'll call her whatever I want to._"

I could feel her smirk darkly before my master said, "_Yes…tried to kill you…but you are stronger than she could ever possibly imagine. You are the best mate a girl could want, Father._"

Before I could reply, her presence left my mind. I mentally sighed. Mate? I had to get Eleanor out of Rapture before it claimed even more of her sanity. I turned to leave. As I neared the party scene, alarm bells erupted inside my mind. There was one too many automatons. Facing the new addition to the scene, I growled threateningly. Meanwhile, the male voice said, "Oh! A party! But this party just hit the skids. Carl needs a light for his cigar and no one can help him."

The Thuggish Splicer, realizing that his cover had been blown, swung his pipe wrench at us as he panicked. Before he even reached us, I ignited him with my genetic flames. The smell of burning flesh, hair, and clothing filled the air as the Splicer ran around while the flames consumed him. As he ran, he made contact with the automatons in the scene and they too became engulfed by flames. Moments later, the human candle collapsed into a burning heap on the floor. Though the repugnant smell did not bother me as much as it would bother a normal person, I quickly made my way towards the exit. However, this time, as I neared the exit, I noticed the ice-blocked entrance to another room just to the right of it. I melted the obstructive ice and entered the water soaked room.

In the far right corner was a mockup of a kitchen with a house wife stereotype ejecting freezing mist from a tube inside her outstretched right hand. The advertisement in front of the kitchen indicated that it was intended to demonstrate the Winter Blast Plasmid. To the left against the wall, I noticed the second Gather's Garden Vending Machine. Not wanting to waste any more time should the Big Sister decide to make her move while she had us trapped in this wing of the park, I exited the room and then proceeded back into the room with the wall-sized advertisement and the sentry turret.

However, as we reached the advertisement, an ear-shattering screech shot through the air. In a progressing line, the television monitors exploded and the room noticeably darkened. I cringed beneath my copper face. She had cornered us and now she was calling us out. Alpha grunted, "Got your back, sir." We moved towards the main room in the park cautiously.

As we did, I desperately tried to think of a way to calm the aggressive former gathers. They were former Little Sisters; I did not want to hurt them. Perhaps, the same ability that allowed me to kill the sea slugs inside the younger ones would allow me to somehow calm the older ones. The slug had probably fused to the post-pubescent girl's digestive track by now so I could not kill the cursed creatures without killing the sister. From what I had seen the Big Sisters do so far, it would not surprise me if it was raw ADAM coursing through their bodies instead of blood. Perhaps, with the ability that I had, I could draw off the excessive amount of ADAM from their bodies and stabilize them.

It was a long shot but I had to try something to help them. However, Eleanor was the only thing that mattered. If it came down to the Big Sister or my beautiful master, then I would have no choice but to use lethal force. I informed my brother with a series of grunts, "I have an idea. If I can draw off the excessive ADAM in her body with the Little Sister Exorcism Plasmid, it might calm her enough to stop her from attacking us."

He replied, "How do you plan to get your hand on her bare skin without her disemboweling you?"

I explained with a sarcastic tone, "By asking nicely."

He groaned before he commented, "You can't save them all, sir."

He was not being pessimistic. Alpha was always more optimistic than I was. However, in this situation, I understood his desire for caution against far-fetched ideas. I assured him, "It is worth a try. Besides, we can always do what we do best if it does not work."

He finally replied in agreement, "Very well, sir. Let's give it a try."

Upon reaching the bottom of the flight of stairs before the bulkhead door that led out into the main area, a loud metal bang rocked the air. Sparks appeared around the edges of the bulkhead as I felt myself being drawn towards the door. As we reached it, it was ripped out of its housing in pieces to reveal the hostile Big Sister standing on top of the red bench seat in the center of the upper walkway. Using her powerful version of Telekinesis, the lithe armored young woman formed the pieces of the door into a ball above her for a moment before sending the pieces flying in all directions. Luckily, the pieces failed to hit either one of us.

She then screeched in primal fury before doing a backflip through the air. Upon landing on the far side of the walkway, she stood upright and glared at us for a moment. It was then that I first noticed the odd proportions of her body. Her legs were unusually gangly even for a young woman. They were so thin and long that she appeared to be having difficulty with standing correctly. Her knees were bent forward at an excessive angle as they appeared to struggle to support the rail thin sections on either side of them. I noticed the metal supports on either side of her legs like the ones that a hospital might give a patient suffering from a muscular disease.

Meanwhile, her arms were just as rail thin as she wielded her needle-like weapon mounted to her left arm and the harpoon bolt mounted to her right arm. Her posture was unusual in that she was hunched over to the point that her red porthole was nearly parallel with her spine even though the porthole was mounted in the center of her bulbous diving helmet. There was something else that struck me about the way she was orienting her head: it was cocked slightly.

I mentally created an image of the skinny girl beneath her armor. I cringed as I pictured the girl hunched forward, arms extended out from her sides that were bent at the elbows, her unnaturally long legs bent excessively at the knees, her neck bent back to the point that her line of sight was nearly parallel with the top of her spine, and her head cocked to one side. ADAM had done this to her mind and body. I had to help her!

The Big Sister cartwheeled to the left and then used her Telekinesis to gather various items from the room above her head in a ball. A piece of concrete, a wooden advertisement stand, and a pillow collected above her. Motioning with her arms, she sent the items flying towards us. However, using our own Telekinesis, we caught the items, except for the pillow which harmlessly bounced off Alpha's chest, and then sent them back at her. She easily dodged them by cartwheeling to the right.

When she landed on her feet, she quickly turned and ran up the side of the nearby column. As she reached the top of the column, she turned towards us and then propelled herself forward at great speed. She landed on her feet just before us and then tried to strike us with a powerful thrust of her needle-like weapon. However, we sidestepped her in opposite directions.

Seeing an opening now that she had her back turned to me, I swung my drill at her. She managed to turn at the last second and my strike only succeeded in breaking off the basket-like contraption that was mounted to her oxygen tank. Seeing the metal contraption hit the ground, she gave off a deafening shriek. My senses had been overwhelmed by her cry and thus I was unable to dodge her as threw herself into my chest at full force.

The momentum of the collision sent us both over the side of the walkway. I let out an agonized roar as I handed hard slightly on my right side. The enraged Big Sister landed on me and began to straddle my waist with her long, gangly legs while she forced me completely back onto my two tanks by placing her gloved hands on my shoulders. She looked down at me with her cocked head for a moment. I tried to push her off of me but she simply relocated her hands to pin my arms down up near the shoulders. She then lowered her head down until the surfaces of our glowing eyes were mere inches apart.

Her strength was staggering. It seemed impossible that such a skinny frame could possess such strength. Despite the thick material between the surfaces of our true bodies, I was able to feel her abdominal muscles tighten and untighten as she shifted her posture. How was she so strong? Even with ADAM, there had to be body structure to match the increase in strength. I had to remind myself that her aggressive response was active and was thus allowing her to access strength that she would not normally be able to access. Her aggressive response combined with the ADAM in her body had made her capable of overpowering an unprovoked Big Daddy.

Suddenly, she shrieked as the report from Alpha's Prototype Rivet Gun sounded through the cavernous area. I also heard a sick, wet pop and when she had retracted from my body and then turned around to look up at where my brother was above us on the walkway, I saw that her right knee had a smoking rivet imbedded in its kneecap. Red and green blood slowly trickled from around the edges of the rivet as she attempted to put weight on it only for the damaged joint to give out.

She had turned to look up at him just in time to be struck by his second shot. I saw the molten rivet imbed itself into her left elbow. The grown Little Sister left out an agonized cry as she attempted to bend her left arm. Going through the numerous steps that were required for me to stand, I reflected that we would need more than our standard tactics to win against a being as strong as her. I heard the sister let out a grunt of exertion and realized that she had jumped up to the second floor to attack my brother. I mentally cursed as I realized what I had to do. However, in doing so, would Eleanor forgive me?

My bonded charge spoke into my mind with a shocked tone, "_Father?_"

With guilt heavy in my mind, I replied, "_I'm sorry, kid. It's the only way. Please, I need you to say it._" I felt her hesitate as she feared what I would do to the sister. I reminded her, "_You can stop me from seriously hurting her. Eleanor, please…I need you to say it._"

Trusting my judgment, Eleanor granted my request as she screamed, "_Unzip 'em, Daddy!_"

The burning maddening fury of my Protector Instincts stormed full strength into my mind like hellfire. My segmented eye began to emit hellish red light as I let out a deafening guttural roar that dwarfed the one that I had let out after I had killed the Bouncer. My entire body vibrated as I continued to shake the area with my furious war cry. Freed from the constraints of my conscience once more, I began to laugh in repeated grunts as the wonderful feeling of homicidal rage consumed my rational thoughts. Then, I suddenly stopped in the middle of a laugh and focused on the little fool that was the reason for the monster Subject Delta being let out of his cage.

My brother had been sidestepping her attacks and withering away at the pest's weak points with his Rivet Gun. Singe marks on her leather hide indicated where the rivets had been so hot that they had burned the section of the brat's suit. Looking down at the tiled floor, I noticed a large chunk of concrete about the size of a basketball to my left. I bent down and casually picked up the two hundred pound plus piece of concrete with my gloved left hand.

Calmly playing with the object in my hand, I called out, "Alpha, lure her to the edge of the walkway. I've got something for her." Seconds later, my brother appeared as he baited the former Little Sister to show herself to me. The undisciplined girl immediately took the bait and exposed herself to me. I took aim and then threw the chunk of concrete at her. My aim was true and the sister was knocked off her feet as the object hit her square in the side of her bulbous head.

My brother looked at me, but I motioned that I would take care of her. Seeing the red light emitting from my eye, he lowered his weapon down to his side and then took a few steps back. He knew better than to argue when I was under the influence of my aggressive response. Folding my left arm and drill across my armored chest, I waited for the girl to get up.

As I had expected, she was slow in getting to her feet. Getting hit by boulder in the side of one's head tended to be disorientating. Seeing Alpha passively standing off to the side, she looked down at me. The fear in her posture was evident as she saw my hellish red eye. I challenged her in a series of grunts, "So, you fancy yourself a killer do you little girl? Alright…I can allot a few minutes for you to indulge your fantasy before I go on my way. Come now, sweetie. Let's see what you can do against ol' obsolete Delta."

She shrieked loudly to try to intimidate me before she jumped down to my floor. Immediately, she lowered herself down to the ground and then charged towards me like a Bouncer. I mentally sighed in disappointment as I remained stationary with my arm and drill folded across my chest. As she neared me, I extended my right foot forward slightly.

The Big Sister, completely oblivious of her surroundings, had failed to see the oil slick on the floor in front of me. The second that the charging young woman's armored feet made contact with the slick, they shot out from beneath her. Falling forward, the girl hit the floor and began to tumble towards me. Her tumbling was finally stopped by the bottom of my extended right boot. Casually returning my right foot back to its normal position, I roughly grabbed the mortified young girl by her head with my left hand and then lifted her up off the ground.

I held her there in front of me for a second before letting out a thunderous roar. Charging forward, I slammed the sister against the EL Ammo Bandito Vending Machine hard enough to send her through the device. Over the sound of various calibers of firearms clattering individually onto the floor from the destroyed machine, I heard the distinctive sound of several of her ribs breaking. I released my grip on her head and then retreated away a few steps.

The injured Big Sister fell out of the remains of the vending machine and collapsed onto the ground in front of it in a heap. Seconds later however, she forced herself to get to her feet. Growling, she swung her needle at me. Amused by her stubbornness, I roughly caught her needle by its shaft with my left hand and then began to savagely pummel her head with my drill.

On the fourth strike, the glass of her eye cracked. She tried to break free from my grip but her strength was no match for mine now that my aggressive response was allowing me to access one hundred percent of my muscular potential. On the tenth strike, a crack appeared in the metal skin of her head. The sister's right knee gave out and she collapsed onto it. Her left foot remained on the ground however.

With more room to charge my strike, I turned my entire torso back to the right and then let out a loud grunt of exertion as I brought it back to strike the brat at full force in the cracked section of her head. A loud metallic thud sounded through the park as my heavy industrial-grade drill split open her helmet. As the two halves of her diving helmet fell to floor on opposite sides of her shaking form, her face was revealed to the world.

My anger faltered as I saw the innocent, frightened appearance of her true face. Releasing my grip on her needle, I stepped back a few steps as I studied her. Without me holding her, she collapsed onto her right side. I did not know what to expect, but the sight before me certainly was not what I had imagined.

Like my beautiful Eleanor, she had frost white flawless skin, thin cheeks, and a small nose. Her unruly short raven hair was slick with sweat. She gazed up at me with her once glowing eyes that had returned to their natural color of white with blue irises. Her pupils were dilated and her thin pale lips were quivering as she continued to look at me. Just below her eyes were black rings as if she had not slept in several days.

The girl's horrible state doused the anger of my Protector Instincts. My rational thoughts returned and my eye returned to emitting golden yellow light. The girl, seeing that my aggressive response had deactivated, slowly pushed herself up with her shaking right arm, letting out a soft hiss as she fought through the pain to do so. When she had finally managed to prop herself up, she said with a timid, frightened tone, "Pa…Papa Del…Delta…I'm sor…sorry…please..."

Dumbfounded, I continued to gaze at her in complete shock. They could talk. They must not have had the voice box modification surgery. Alpha appeared as he jumped down to our level. My brother moved to stand beside me and then we looked at the helmetless Big Sister. I bent down onto my right knee and assured her with my Alpha Series voice, "It's okay Little One. We just want to help."

Alpha handed me a First Aid Kit. I took it in my gloved left hand and then slowly slid it to the frightened girl. Keeping her eyes on us, she reached out and retrieved the kit with her right hand. I understood her confusion at our sudden display of kindness after I had been aggressively bludgeoning her moments prior. I was certain that kindness in general was something new for her as well.

As she applied the red liquid soaked bandages to her wounds, my brother asked her, "What's your name?"

She cocked her head to the left in confusion as she replied, "Name?" I realized that she was a survivor from the Mass Production line of Little Sisters. They did not receive names. Only the Alpha Series Little Sisters had names.

I asked her, "You remind me of my Eleanor…do you know her?"

I saw a slight, almost undetectable smile appear on her pale face before she replied, "Of course I do Papa Delta. Silly, we live in the same house…Perphony."

I smiled slightly beneath the emotionless face of Subject Delta before I corrected her, "I think you mean Persephone, sweetie."

She frowned slightly before she replied defensively, "Hey it is a big word alright! Just because I am not as smart as Eleanor doesn't mean that I am stupid!"

I assured her, "I did not say that you were. Besides, Eleanor is a genius. It is not fair to compare yourself to her."

The girl looked at me in silence for a moment as if she was studying me. Then, to my surprise, she asked me, "Are you going to hurt her like Mother said you are?"

I frowned beneath my face as I realized that Sofia was brainwashing the girls into thinking that I was going to hurt their sister in order to rile them up. I assured the misinformed young woman, "Of course not. I can't hurt my daughter…she is only reason that I have to live. Besides…she is my master…I am hers to do with however she pleases."

The Big Sister said sadly, "I miss my Mister Bubbles…Eleanor is lucky to have hers back. Mine is gone…he went with the angels."

I replied, "I'm sorry…I know that he would be proud of you though."

She smiled and then asked, "You think so? I charge at my targets to try to be like him…I guess that is stupid..."

My brother remarked, "That's not stupid." Seeing the two halves of her helmet, he walked over to the destroyed vending machine. After picking through the remains, he pulled a strip of metal free from the machine. The Big Sister watched him in curiosity as he put the two halves back together and then shaped the metal strip around them. When he was satisfied with the shape of the strip, he used his Rivet Gun to attach the strip to the helmet. The rivets were watertight so the helmet was once again a functional diving helmet.

Handing her repaired helmet to her, he informed her, "It will hold, but I would recommend that you find a replacement. The glass is cracked too so be extremely cautious if you need to get in a fight."

She dropped the empty kit and then took her helmet from him. After examining the repair that he had done, she smiled at him and said, "Thank you, Papa Alpha."

He replied, "Any time, Little One."

She looked at me and asked, "Can I come with you?"

I replied, "No, that would not be a good idea. If Sofia sees you with us, she will send your sisters after you. However, if you want to follow us and help from the shadows, we would be very grateful."

She smiled as she placed her helmet back down over her head and then resealed her suit. As she did, my built-in radio activated. Sinclair commented, "You're just makin' all sorts of new friends aren't you, son? Well, head on back to the station and melt the ice, an' we'll say goodbye to this two-bit carney ride."

My radio deactivated and I looked back at the Big Sister only to find that she had silently left. As I looked around for her, I heard a knocking sound coming from above us. When I looked up towards the glass and metal skeleton of the arched ceiling, I saw the Big Sister looking down at us from outside of the glass. Her eye had changed from hellish red to calm yellow. She waved at us before quickly darting out of sight. I could only hope that Sofia did not find out that the sister was now our ally.

As we made our way back to the entrance to the park, my brother commented, "Good thing we did not need to use that exorcism plasmid. She's such a little firecracker that I doubt that we would have been able to get her to be still long enough to use it."

I replied, "Indeed. Perhaps, our new friend can whisper at her sisters about how Sofia is a liar and get them on our side."

He said, "That would be nice. I'd hate to have to fight them individually all the way to Fontaine Futuristics. Some of the others are more sadistic when they fight."

I taunted him, "You're not afraid of them are you?"

He replied calmly, "No, sir. I promised Emily that if I had to kill them as a necessity, I would kill them quickly. The sadistic ones would complicate that."

By then, we had exited the park. As we reached the destroyed remains of the fallen clock in the ticket booth area, the intercom system activated. Sofia preached, "Ryan saw the individual as a hero…a noble survivor. And Rapture was his paradise…a shrine to the supremacy of the self. The result? Slavery. Genocide. Chaos. Now that the Tyrant is dead, we are a true collective…a single family."

I said darkly, "Noble survivor? I think she was talking about you, Alpha." My brother laughed darkly in return. We continued on to the train station. There, I used my genetic flames to melt the ice coating the watertight bulkhead. As the ice melted, my radio activated.

Sinclair said, "Outstandin' sport. You are provin' to be quite a windfall. Now just open the train tunnel from the security booth there, and I'll come an' jump on." My radio deactivated.

Alpha commented, "Hmm…I wonder how much we can milk this little scheme that you have cooking up for."

I smirked before I replied, "Let's not show our hand until we have to. Come with me, I want to see how trustworthy Sinclair is. Even if he takes the train, we can just walk to Fontaine's."

He said, "Right behind you, sir."

We entered the security booth and I pulled the override lever down. Looking through the glass panels of the booth, I saw Sinclair exit the locked room next to the bulkhead gate. He stopped in front of the tooth and turned to look at us. To my surprise, he said, "I like to look a man in the eyes when I give him my word. You and me kid, we're going places!" Then, he turned and waved behind him as he boarded the train car.

Perhaps, I had been a little harsh on Sinclair. The man was silver tongued but even he had a tell when he was lying. I had seen it when he had assured Sofia that there was nothing that he could do to stop Ryan from taking her followers as Test Candidates. His right eye would narrow ever so slightly and if you did not know to look for it, you would easily miss it. I had not seen his eye narrow just now. He truly was giving us his word.

'Don't get comfortable you weak old man! Focus! The second that it is profitable, he will betray you just like before.' I berated myself for weakening my stance on Sinclair. I had to get to Eleanor and Sinclair was a liability to her safety.

However, before I could leave the booth, my radio activated as Sofia contacted me. She sounded apologetic as she admitted, "I had thought you a golem of Sinclair's, brought here to hold Rapture's arms while…" Splicers appeared outside the booth as they headed towards the train car. "…riffles through her pockets." A Thuggish Splicer in bloodied security guard attire began to bang on the booth's reinforced glass with his left fist. "But no…you are aware of your plight. Who, I wonder, would be so cruel? To force a mirror on a man with no face…"

Immediately after she finished, Sinclair said, "Lamb was waitin' for us! Come out shootin' and start the train!"

With our weapons at the ready, we charged out of the booth. Three Thuggish Splicers were in the station. One was by the security door that led to the park. Alpha quickly neutralized him with a headshot. The security guard in bloodied attire rushed at me from where he had been banging against the glass. I blasted him with Electro Bolt and then bashed open his skull with a swing of my drill. The final Splicer, a woman in torn formal attire, was kicking the side of the train car. Getting her attention, I ignited her with a ball of genetic flame. As the nauseating smell filled the air, the woman screamed in agony before Alpha silenced her with a headshot.

We hastily boarded the train in case more Splicers were coming. I pulled the lever and the train began to depart. As we neared the water, both Alpha and I groaned as we prepared for the onrush of icy Atlantic water. I reminded myself that it was just one more time that I had to endure a long period of travel in the freezing ocean water. The next stop would be Fontaine Futuristics. With any luck, the rest of the trip would be uneventful.


	9. Chapter 9: Interference

Ch. 9: Interference

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry about the wait. I have been swamped with life and college. I am working on my stories, don't lose faith.

Thank you to everyone that has been supporting the story so far! I am truly grateful. I honestly did not expect so many people to take an interest in this one.

Anyway,

In this chapter, at least at the beginning, we see a little more of Eleanor's mental fragility caused by the years without Delta. Throughout the story, I plan for her to slowly regain herself to the point that we see at the end of the game.

Plus, we see Delta and Alpha face off against their first Rosie Big Daddy.

As always, read and review if you want.

* * *

The murky, icy water of the ocean depths surrounded us as the train car bumped and jerked its way towards Fontaine Futuristics. The occasional cry of fatigued metal filled the area as the overhead strut threatened to give way. The thin layer of frost covering the exterior of my segmented eye, as well as the rest of my body, grew inch by inch as it surrounded the very center of my vision like an army surrounding a fortress. The popular belief was that Hell was filled with fire. However, I had come to believe that Hell was filled with ice.

Eleanor. The brilliant little girl that had viewed the world with wide-eyed wonder and hope was gone. The young woman that had taken her place had not only been consumed by the mind warping Hell that was Rapture but she had also been beaten down by it. I no longer heard the hope in her voice that had been so definitive of her character when she was a little girl. Now, I only heard fatigue and darkness. My greatest fear had come to pass. The only good thing that I had done with my life had not lived beyond my demise.

My master had become so warped that she had convinced herself that she loved me as a suitor rather than her father. I mentally sighed as I glanced at my reflection in the glass sheet in front of me. The hulking, diving suit-clad monster that I had become looked back at me with his emotionless glowing eye and auxiliary lights. The eye that would turn into hellfire as the brute killed and destroyed without question of his master's will.

No, Eleanor. I was not who she thought I was. The man whose voice she only heard through our link was long gone. I knew what I was now: Subject Delta. I was a killer of man and a destroyer of lives. I had seen inside of her mind. I knew what she dreamed. I knew what life she wanted on the surface. However, that was one path down which I could not follow. The surface would not accept me.

'_Then I shall stay with you in Rapture, Johnny._'

I dismissed her suggestion, '_No. You cannot stay here, Eleanor. This city will kill you._'

The feeling of euphoric bliss filled me as I saw her hypnotic face in my mind's eye. She raised her left eyebrow as she asked with her accented voice, '_And it won't kill you, Father?_'

I laughed with my gruff voice before I said, '_I'm a dead man walking, kid. You can't kill a dead man._'

Her eyes narrowed for a moment before she said, '_You are not dead, Topside. I know that you see yourself as a monster, but Subject Delta is just a label. You and he are the same person, why can't you see that?_'

Her voice changed to become alarmingly distressed while she sounded like she was about to cry as she said, '_I will not go back to living without you, Father. Don't you understand what I have been though all these years? Every heartbeat felt like a knife blade in my heart...there was no point in continuing to live if I wasn't with you. This…thing…inside of me…it will not let me die. I had tried to join you in your slumber, Topside…but my condition would not let me. I am immortal but I have no desire to live without you by my side._'

Her words hit me like a Bouncer's drill. She loved me so much that she had tried to kill herself? Alarmed, I said in a stunned tone, '_Eleanor…_'

The fragile, broken woman interrupted, '_You selfish bastard! I've given you my heart! If you won't give me yours of your own freewill...then I will have no choice but to make you love me. I am your master, Subject Delta! You are my servant! You are going to be by my side one way or another!_'

The last word had no sooner left her before she gasped as she realized what she was saying. Though my body remained motionless, I mentally reached out and pulled her back to me as she tried to retreat away out of shame. I held her gently as she threw herself against my massive frame. While she cried against me as all the pent up anguish inside of her flooded forward, I struggled to grasp the mental hell that she had been resigned to since that night ten years prior.

All this time, I had been blaming Rapture and Sofia for this broken soul. However, it was me; I was the one that had tortured her to the brink of madness. The memory of me had indeed given her something to cling to the past ten years but it had also been the very thing driving her mad. In my own selfish morality, I had denied her the one thing that she had sought for ever since my revival. What was wrong with me? I was nothing! She was all that mattered.

I had been given something that many dreamed of but only a few received: a second chance. Now, I realized that I had already nearly ruined it. For what? Some obscure social taboo from the surface? The surface where, for as far as they were concerned, I was a dead man? I knew what waited for me beyond the abyss of the barrier between life and death: nothing. Why did I cling to some fear of reprisal? Well, no more. I would give my beautiful daughter what she desired as long as she wished for my existence to continue.

I stated with a flat tone, '_It's yours._'

'_Wha…what?_' Eleanor asked as she looked up at me with shinning eyes.

I explained, '_My heart…for however long you want it…it's yours._'

She hiccupped as she fought to force her crying fit back down before she asked, '_Yo…you pro…promise?_'

I sighed and then replied, '_I cannot promise you anything, Eleanor. All I can do is say that I will try to love you the same way that you love me. This damn programming inside my head has put up mental blocks to keep me from looking at you like that…sort of a safeguard built-in by Fontaine's scientists I suspect. I will try to get through them…as you said…of my own freewill._'

For the briefest moment, I saw the hopeful look return to her eyes. I felt the refreshing optimism of youth return to her mind. However, it was short-lived. Seconds later, her eyes flared in cold fury as her porcelain-like face warped into a mask of rage. So cold were her eyes that, even as a Big Daddy, I was intimidated and went to retreat away from her form. However, she held me close as she warned me with an icy voice that was full of authority, '_Mother is…interfering…again, Father. When will she cease her games? Oh Mother…your inconveniences will only prolong your suffering once Father and I are reunited. There are many different forms of justice oh dear, sweet Mother…man's…God's…and mine._'

Before I could say anything, she instructed me with her authoritative tone, '_We do not have time for mercy…your heart gets weaker by the minute. Kill anyone that gets in your way, Father._'

Powerless to do anything but serve my beautiful master, I replied with a flat tone, '_Yes, Eleanor._' Her euphoric presence left my mind. When my vision returned, I saw that we had pulled into a station. Before I could discern where we were, I saw a female Leadhead Splicer run out in front of us at the end of the line near the bulkhead gate.

I let out a growl of annoyance before I broke free of the layer of frost that had cemented my body into the posture I had been in since our departure from Ryan Amusements. I reached for the brake lever, but, suddenly, a huge figure ran up behind the disfigured woman. I had never seen anything like it before. At first, I thought that it was a gorilla because of the massive proportions of its shoulder and arm muscles. However, the torn, bulging remains of clothing dismissed that idea. This was a new Splicer. I mentally scoffed at this pathetic attempt to match a Big Daddy's strength. They could warp their bodies however they wanted. It would make no difference. They would all die just the same.

The woman, realizing that she was trapped, turned around and began to fire her revolver. The rounds hardly fazed the brute as he punched the woman in her face with his massive left fist. The sound of crunching bone briefly filled the air as her neck snapped back at an unnatural angle. At the same time, the squeal of our train car's brakes filled the air as the machine inexplicably began to stop without our consent.

Alerted to our presence, the brute let out a loud cry that sounded very human despite his appearance before he jumped up and disappeared from view, possibly into some escape route. Not giving the Splicer a second thought, I investigated the train's controls to try to uncover the reason for our involuntary stop. As I did, however, I received my answer as Sofia announced through the public announcement system, "Attention. Subject Delta is now trapped in Pauper's Drop. All railcar travel is hereby suspended until he is found. Remember-the enemy is alone. We are the Family."

Sinclair contacted me through my built-in radio, "Lamb's trying to box us in, kid—this is a god-damned citywide lockdown. To keep the train movin', you need the security override key from the local 'governor'…Grace Holloway. She kicked me out of my hotel down here – The Sinclair Deluxe. Find her, an' get that key."

We both looked at each other. Alpha asked with a series of grunts, "What do you think, sir?"

I mentally sighed. The Drop was the worst place in Rapture. All the Alpha Series Protectors knew to avoid the place if at all possible. Even someone as tactically brilliant as Alpha would be hard pressed to counter the seemingly endless traps and ambush points in The Drop. Originally, it was a junction repair station. However, as the economic and political stress of Rapture took their toll on the population, places along the Atlantic Express lines became the equivalent of "squatter towns" from the surface.

We did need that key from Grace. Unlike a traditional key, the one that we were after was genetically encoded. I cringed as I realized that, thanks to Sofia's interference, we would have to hunt down the local governor at every stop along the way to Fontaine Futuristics. That is what my daughter must have meant when she said that we did not have time for mercy. Indeed, we would be facing the razor's edge of time to make it to where they were holding her before my failsafe drove me to madness. Death was the alternative to madness but I knew better than to expect that because it would be too merciful.

Of course, we could just leave Sinclair behind and make our way there on foot. Part of me wanted to do so as a form of retribution for the business man selling me out to Fontaine. However, it had not been personal. Besides, even with the added time of hunting down the keys, traveling by the Atlantic Express would actually be faster than lumbering through the murky darkness outside Rapture's walls.

I grunted, "We're not going anywhere without that key. Come on, let's get to the Sinclair Deluxe."

He replied, "Right behind you, sir."

Exiting the train car, I was met by the deplored conditions of The Drop. The sound of straining steel filled the air almost without reprieve. Examining the ceiling, I noticed that there were indeed multiple holes in the concrete lining of the repair junction. We would have to be careful that we did not accidentally bring down the entire squatter town. I informed my brother, "Watch your fire. Only thing holding this place together is the rust."

He replied, "Yes, sir."

I made my way over to the security bulkhead that would allow access to Pauper's Drop. Above the door, I noticed a crude sign that read, "Pauper's Drop". Beneath it, I saw the lit sign of the original designation of the cut-out beside the track. I arrived at the corroded bulkhead only to find that it was sealed. I growled in irritation as I reached out with my gauntlet-encased left hand and ripped the cover off the nearby electrical panel.

After tossing the metal cover off to the side, I returned my hand to the panel. Time had erased the color coating on the wires so I had to trace the lines back to their sources and make my best guess. Finding one that appeared to fit the bill, I ripped it out of the box. My choice was correct and the bulkhead opened. Happening to glance up, I saw a public broadcast monitor in the upper right corner of the bulkhead frame. On it, I saw a grainy, black and white image of me.

I was coming around a corner. To my right was a sign though I could not discern what the words were. The angle of the shot indicated that it was from a security camera. At the bottom of the image in bold white letters was the word, "Defiler." Something was off about my appearance, however. I did not have my drill and my overall muscle mass was noticeably less pronounced. I was puzzled until I realized that it was an old photograph of me from back before my demise. That made sense because, back then, I had no reason to hide from the security cameras. In fact, I would venture a guess that it was before I even needed to carry around a formidable tool because my mere appearance was enough to frighten off the few threats in the city at the time.

Moving forward through the open bulkhead, I saw the first reminder of how dangerous this area of Rapture was. Mere feet from the entrance to The Drop was the carcass of a Rosie Mass Production Model. The Tin Man appeared to have been crushed beneath a collapsed section of the low ceiling. The Rosie Mass Production Models were particularly vulnerable due to the fact that their life support systems were very pronounced on their backs.

The Rosies were never intended to be protectors or to be fighters. They were merely the maintenance workers of Rapture. The rapidly deteriorating condition of the city had caused them to be pressed into service as part-time protectors alongside the Bouncers and my brethren. I had never understood why their design had not been modified to reduce their vulnerability.

Leaning against the rubble pile was an unmodified Alpha Series Big Daddy machine gun. The placement of the weapon was deliberate. Had another survivor of my brethren passed through here? A feeling of hope rose inside my mind as I dared to believe in the possibility of another Alpha Series having survived like Subject Alpha.

Alpha let out a grunt that vaguely sounded like a sigh before he informed me, "There are survivors, sir. Though…survive is not the word I would use to describe them." His comment briefly stirred a memory from the depths of my mind. Those of my brethren that had lost their bonded daughters were placed in the "Pacification Chambers" inside Fontaine Futuristics in an effort to keep them under control. While they were not hostile to me or any other members of the Alpha Series, they were dangerously aggressive towards any other creature.

To the left of the rubble was a large yellow hydraulic jack that was holding up the weakened ceiling above it. I navigated around the obstacles and made my way to the security bulkhead on the opposite end of the hallway. As the bulkhead raised up upon my approach, I saw a Gene Bank mounted to the opposite wall along with multiple advertisement posters. A discarded refrigerator unit was on the wet floor a few feet ahead of me.

However, these observations were barely registered as I became aware of an overpowering, familiar pheromone signature. Eleanor. Her scent saturated my being until it was all I could perceive. In a docile daze, I turned to my right as I passed through the open bulkhead. Quickly following her intoxicating scent, I proceeded through the next security bulkhead. My docile state was shattered as I saw a group of Splicers that were gathered in front of a Little Sister Vent. They were performing some kind of bizarre pseudo-religious sacrifice of one of their own to a Little Sister, who I saw only briefly before she disappeared back into the vent.

The blatant wholesale twisting of the child's purpose sent a flood of rage into my mind. How dare they use the girls in some kind of sick, twisted religious bastardization? Revving my powerful drill, I let out a guttural roar that rocked the foundation of The Drop. The deranged individuals jumped to their feet. One of them, a man whose face was nearly completely entombed beneath a thick layer of blood-soaked bandages, rushed at me with a section of pipe in his right hand. The other two individuals, a man and a woman, fell back towards the vent and then fired their crudely repaired revolvers at us.

As my brother neutralized the two Leadhead Splicers, I charged at the Thuggish Splicer. Determined to put an end to the misuse of the Little Sisters, I thrust my whirling drill bit into the Splicer's chest cavity and while his bloodied tissue filled the air, I rushed forward to the makeshift "alter" before the vent. In an arc, I slammed the fresh corpse on top of the existing one that was atop the blue cloth covered structure. The force of my rage-fueled assault completely demolished the "alter". Satisfied, I placed my right foot down on top of the corpse and forcefully removed my powered down drill from the bloodied mass.

My rage subsided and I took a step back. Intrigued, I studied the strange adornment of the Little Sister Vent. The broken residents of The Drop were offering themselves up to the Little Sisters? Why? They were victims of ADAM withdraw, yes, but their will to survive was ironclad. Splicers were notorious for placing self-preservation above all else. Why were they willingly sacrificing themselves?

I observed a collage-like collection of photographs on the right wall. To the right of the collage was an advertisement for Lamb's practice. Looking from the advertisement back to the demolished alter, I deduced the reason for their new behavior. Lamb was manipulating the Splicers into believing that "salvation" could be achieved by allowing the Little Sisters to gather their essence in the form of ADAM. Why she had convinced them of that remained to be seen.

With the ceiling of the room partially collapsed, we had to proceed around the rubble pile to reach the mostly barricaded entrance to the rest of The Drop. The security gates appeared to have been long since overrun by the inhabitants. Similar to Apollo Square, this section of Rapture was viewed as a security concern. However, in the case of The Drop, it was not an artificial squatter town. Since the majority of the inhabitants were allied with Sofia Lamb in one form or another, Ryan took a precautionary step to ensure that the "collectivists" stayed within the crumbling walls of the re-purposed junction repair station.

As I passed the corpse of a man that was sitting on a wooden park bench against the wall beyond the vent, I briefly felt a ray of sympathy for the inhabitants of Pauper's Drop. Yet again, Rapture had fallen through for its citizens and, yet again, it was the less fortunate that had born the burden for the upper classes of the dying society. Sofia Lamb took advantage of misfortune just like Fontaine, though in her case it was more out of her own principles.

As we approached the only non-barricaded section of the security gates, I asked my brother, "Do you think Sofia truly believes in what she is doing?"

He replied, "She believes in the utopia part, that I am quite certain. Whether or not she still believes in Rapture and The Family, I do not know. It is fitting though."

I grunted a questioning tone. He explained, "She has become the very thing that she sought to destroy…a tyrant. Just like Andrew Ryan...guess the two have more in common than they thought."

By then, I had neared the area around the Fishbowl Diner, which I noted was in the same condition as I had last seen it. Two female Leadhead Splicers ran in front of us. However, before we could engage them, another Brute Splicer, possibly the same one from before, threw a red metal oil drum at them. The barrel exploded upon impact and the two Splicers cried out in agony as the area was briefly engulfed by flame. Their flaming corpses flew in opposite directions and I had to quickly side step to my left to avoid one of them.

As the Brute retreated by jumping up to the ceiling of the diner and darting out of sight, the public announcement system activated. The weathered voice of Sofia's only true friend piped through the speakers as she addressed me, "I remember you, monster. You stole Eleanor from me…twisted that baby girl into something so sick that it can't even die…and now you come into my neighborhood lookin' for me? Wrong turn, Tin Daddy. When we hang you from a streetlight, and you're choking out your last…I want you to remember my face…"

Stole Eleanor? The conviction in her tone indicated that this was not some lie planted by Sofia. Her voice was the equivalent of a Leadhead Splicer's bullets. This woman did not only want me dead because of Sofia's request. She wanted me terminated with extreme prejudice for a very personal reason. What had I done to her? Why did she believe that I had kidnapped Eleanor? My personal inquisition stirred a memory from the depths of the fog that still lingered inside my mind as it continued to struggle to work through the trauma of death. However, I was unable to perceive the memory in my mind's eye. Whether due to the trauma of death or some kind of mental block, I did not know.

Looking around by twisting my entire torso to the left and then to the right in a smooth motion, I realized that, if anything, Pauper's Drop was in better shape than it had been the last time that I had set foot within its walls. The walls were still either damp or had a waterfall of invading seawater running down their surface. The Fishbowl Diner finally had an animated neon sign to draw attention to the distinctly American style diner. However, considering that all of the large, table side windows had been forcefully removed from their frames, that the entrance was barricaded shut, and there were signs of extreme violence inside of its silent frame, the addition of the animated red and white neon sign bolted to the roof pointing towards the entrance/exit to The Drop was the least of the failed diner's concerns.

"Well, that explains why Line B is red." My brother commented as he motioned towards the stalled, possibly derailed, train car where it was motionless high above our heads on the track near the far wall of the vast space that we were in with his rivet gun.

To my left, at the far corner was yet another fallen Rosie. The assailant, assuming there was one as I noticed that it appeared that the tunnel that the lumbering giant had been in had collapsed and he had failed to escape in time, was clearly the same one responsible for the other Rosie's demise. The MOs matched perfectly: someone had used their raw anger to kill the unsuspecting giant as painfully as possible. In this case, the assassin had literally crushed the Rosies to death.

Anger. 'Wrong turn, Tin Daddy. When we hang you from a streetlight and you're chocking out your last…I want you to remember my face...' Grace's comment suddenly took on a whole new meaning. The average citizen did not know that the Alpha Series Big Daddies and the Mass Production Models were in no way allied with each other. However, Grace did not understand, or could not see through the mental block of her own bitterness to be able to, that whatever pain I had caused her during some long ago incident was solely from me and me alone. My brethren and the Tin Men were not accomplices in the injustice that I had inflicted upon her.

A worrisome thought occurred to me: Grace's anger towards me and, by misunderstanding-caused extension, the Tin Men was so ingrained within her mind that she was violating her best friend's trust by endangering the Little Sisters that Sofia had risked Rapture's safety for by kidnapping them from the surface. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I idly wondered if Sofia was aware of her only friend's betrayal.

I could not imagine that she had not noticed. Sofia was many things but she was not a sap. She had devoted her life to her profession. Her observational prowess easily surpassed anything found in the average individual. As Tenenbaum was Mozart with science, Ryan was Mozart with personal greatness, and Fontaine was Mozart with politics, Dr. Lamb was Mozart with human behavior. Nothing escaped her notice. Surely, the missing Rosies would not escape her notice. If I could connect the dots, Sofia definitely could.

Suddenly, I became aware of a new aroma that overpowered the damp, corroding metal, urine and defecate filled stench of The Drop. The sweet aroma of my beautiful master once again took hold of my being and I was compelled to make my way down the path to the right of the diner. There was some kind of cube-shaped structure in the corner between the walls, though what purpose it had served was lost to me. Beyond the structure against the wall was a Circus of Values Vending machine.

Moving forward, to the right of the diner was a large puddle of seawater. The concrete floor appeared to have collapsed and compromised the underlining pipe. In the far back corner, I saw a flower shop, though the vibrant colors of its produce had clearly long-since decayed into disgusting black plant stems. Between the diner's back corner and the flower shop was another one of the strange cube-like structures.

There appeared to be a makeshift bridge between the roof of the diner and the roof of the flower shop. The center of the bridge was being supported by the strange structure. As I watched, I noticed the traveling red ball of light that indicated that there was a security camera mounted to the corner of the diner. Fortunately, the puddle of seawater was only ankle deep and, though it caused mild discomfort to move through, it failed to hinder my movement.

Still in my trance-like state, I continued forward in pursuit of the scent of my master. Whatever foolish Mass Production Model dared to stand in my way would be in for a rude surprise. I had no sooner left the ice cold waters of the Atlantic before I heard the rumbling whale-like cry of her protector as it lazily traveled through the air. As Alpha hacked the security camera, I continued forward. However, I had taken less than three steps before the pair appeared before me. The blue-dressed Little Sister led the Rosie Mass Production Model along the side of the diner as she sang with her robotic voice, "…in the house upside down...found is lost and lost is found."

Though the girl continued to mimic her sisters' mannerisms, I sensed the presence of my Eleanor in her. When her glowing yellow eyes glanced at me, I felt the spark of recognition within the damaged child's mind. Alpha finished hacking the camera and joined me as he stood by my left side. The metal giant remained passive, as indicated by the dull yellow light emitting from singular large porthole in the center of the front of his diving helmet and the two smaller portholes on either side of his helmet, but I felt him eying the two Alpha Series Big Daddies that now stood before him with both a sense of nostalgia and a sense of suspicion.

Though the Rosies lacked in both agility and raw intimidation, the modified Stratosphere Flying Suit clad behemoths were no less dangerous than their brethren. There was nothing deadlier at long range, save for an Alpha Series like Subject Alpha, than a Rosie. Their massive rivet guns had nearly an endless supply of ammunition and their red hot rounds could easily damage any creature found within Rapture. Their marksmanship was truly something to behold as I had never witnessed a Rosie miss its target. Moreover, the Rosies were formidable tacticians compared to the Bouncers. Simple traps would not work on them.

However, the Rosies, like the Bouncers, had a crippling weak point: their life support systems on their backs. In the case of the Rosies, this was a rather large collection of a tank and several pipes that stuck out from their backs. Their suits were much less robust than the Bouncer's as well. Their nostrils were external like our own yet their true lungs no longer functioned. Furthermore, their suits were less armored than even our own. Whereas our protective metal face and chest covered all the vital areas of our body, the Rosies' metal armor only covered their face and neck.

We could use the strange cube-like structure to our advantage. Alpha would distract him and the security camera would bring in security bots to swarm the behemoth. The Rosie would be forced to face them in order to keep his vulnerable spots, i.e. his life support systems, hidden behind him. This would be my moment to strike. I would flank around the structure and tear into the giant's back with my upgraded drill and plasmids. With any luck, I could neutralize the brute before he could counterattack with his formidable strength. Even without a melee weapon, the Rosie could still use his strength to deliver a savage blow as well as stomp the ground to disorient nearby enemies long enough to punish them with his rivet gun and proximity mines. My plan would force the Rosie into a fight that would be too close quartered for him to use his mines.

The Little Sister noticeably slowed her pace as she attempted to assist us. I grunted at my brother, "Attack him from the front. Use the security camera. I will flank him."

My brother replied, "Roger that, sir."

I moved off to the right to be in position to flank the Rosie once the death match started. Behind me, I heard my brother switch to Heavy Rivet ammunition. The Tin Man, bound by his programming, could do little more than to mindlessly follow his charge straight into our trap. In another situation, I would have felt regret, even guilt for blatantly ambushing what the rest of Rapture considered to be my brother. In a way, they were indeed just like us. We were all victims of the city that had once promised so much to us all.

Just as the security camera's light swept over the giant once again, Alpha fired his modified Prototype Rivet Gun into the Rosie. Immediately, all hell broke loose. In a deafening chorus, the Rosie let loose a rumbling war-like cry while, simultaneously, the security camera's alarm began to blare its rhythmic pulses. However, beneath the deep rumble of the Rosie's cry, the thumping of his rivet gun, the high-pitched report of Alpha's rivet gun, and the chirping of the security bots as they approached us, I heard the sound that ripped into my very being.

Beneath the chaos, the delicate Little Sister screamed in fright and then yelled with her distorted voice, "MISTER BUBBLES!" With my senses already saturated with her pheromones and with my mind already weakened by my interaction with Eleanor, all traces of my rational thoughts vanished as the artificial burning fury of my Protector Instincts stormed full force into my mind.

The area before me was bathed in hellish red light as my eye and auxiliary lights changed to warn those around me about my shift in mental state. Revving my drill, I arced my back as I let out a guttural roar that dwarfed the Rosie's enraged cry. The Drop shuttered as the weakened walls struggled to weather my long-winded roar of primal fury.

The anguished grunts of Subject Alpha brought me back to the fight at hand. The Rosie was weathering the incoming small arms fire from the security bots, which were continuously being destroyed with one well-placed shot from the brute's favored tool. The giant, in the typical fashion of his kind, was purposely maintaining his distance from my brother, who had retreated slightly to the edge of the water as he continued to unleash a continuous stream of red hot rivets in the behemoth's hide. In a testament to his situational awareness, the Rosie had destroyed the security camera upon discovering that we had turned it against him. The smoldering pile of metal that was once the camera now lay in a heap by the corner of the diner.

At his feet, the Little Sister continued to cower in absolute fear of the situation though she occasionally glanced in my direction with an inviting look on her dirtied face. In a bizarrely comical scene, the Tin Man almost appeared to tip toe as he attempted to avoid trampling his small charge as he moved with a speed that seemed impossible for such a large and heavy frame. The protector began to stomp forward until he was in the middle of the "L" between the sides of the diner and the unidentified cube-like structure.

I began to advance forward to pounce on the Tin Man but a male Leadhead Splicer in tattered business attire and brandishing a modified Thompson Submachine Gun rushed towards me from the other side of the diner. For the first time, I noticed the Gather's Garden Vending Machine at the top of pair of stairs that, as I recalled, led to the first section of The Drop's Market District, just behind the diner. I also noticed the Ammo Bandito Vending Machine against the wall that was opposite to the Gather's Garden and adjacent to the diner.

The Splicer was an opportunist. Clearly, he had hoped to rush forward and snatch the girl while the Big Daddies were distracted by their death match. The man showed some residual cognitive function in that he had brought a hacked security bot to serve as a further distraction while he went after his target. He was so fixated on the delicate child cowering beneath the weighted boots of the Rosie that he failed to see me until the razor sharp point of my drill had been thrust into the center of his skull.

As he crumpled to the ground, I quickly made my way over to crashed security bot that had been escorting the former denizen. The hack had been crude, more like the ADAM-crazed individual had ripped out whole sections of wiring, but I managed to fix some of the haphazard modifications. Stomping down on the chirping bot with my right diving boot encased foot, I pulled the machine's manual start cord back in one firm motion.

As the machine flew towards the brute while it unleashed a maelstrom of lead, I followed close behind as I charged towards my target. With the rage of my Protector Instincts fueling my resolve, I slammed onto the giant's back, nearly caused the protector to topple over. As he attempted to recover, I reached up and grabbed ahold of the left collection of pipes running to the source of the brute's strength: the large tank on his back.

Contrary to popular belief, the Rosie's lungs were two separate tubes that connected to the front of his helmet from where they originated on opposite sides of the pedestal-like metal ring on his back. The tank and pipes mounted to the pedestal were the equivalent of the brute's "heart". The surprised Rosie roared in fury as he attempted to dislodge me. However, with my unrestricted strength, I was able to match his raw physical prowess long enough to disconnect the pipes from the tank.

Disgusting blackened blood gushed out of the compromised organ and liberally coated my form to the extent that I was rendered blind as it covered my segmented eye with a thick layer of foul-smelling liquid. Intense agony suddenly racked my entire body as I was thrown into the side of the cube-like structure. I let out a mournful groan as I felt the ribs along my right side snap as I collided with the unforgiving side of the structure. As I landed prostrate on the ground, I tasted the iron of my own blood as the sharp edges of my broken ribs cut mercilessly into the surrounding tissue.

The lifesaving red liquid in my tank followed into my body, but my breathing still came in ragged gasps as my rage-fueled body attempted to push itself back up onto its feet. However, a massive diving boot stomped down on the small of my back as the larger protector physically forced me back down onto the cold damp concrete ground. In my mind's eye, I pictured the smoking business end of his massive Rivet Gun being pressed against the back of my copper head.

My blow to his life support systems had doomed the Rosie, but the diehard Mass Production Model was hell bent on taking me with him. I heard my brother rush to my aid but seconds later, I heard the clattering of metal against concrete as he too was knocked off his feet by the incalculable strength of the dying Tin Man. Using the time that my brother had bought me, I forced myself to my feet faster than what I was normally capable of and scrapped the thick black and red liquid from the glass surface of my eye with the metal fingertips of my left gauntlet-encased hand.

The dying protector was before me. Alpha was getting to his feet off to my left near the puddle. The security alert had ceased and the surviving security bots had returned to the nearest security station. The smoldering remains of the fallen bots were scattered all around us. With my modified industrial grade mining drill at the ready and with electrical arcs dancing around my left hand, I growled threateningly at the Rosie as he stood before me. I would have ignited him with my genetic flames, but I dared not with the delicate child at his feet. Immortal she may be, but she felt pain. The wild nature of fire was too unpredictable to use when she was so close to the Tin Man.

For the barest second, our two hellish red eyes locked onto each other and, in that instant, I felt a sense of pleading coming from the shell inside the monster. I would dare say that what remained of the man inside that hulking diving suit was begging me to end this nightmare for him. Though we were mortal enemies, I, the paragon of the true Big Daddies and he, a mockery of the title, I was happy to oblige. As the moment ended, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into the metal and leather hide of the protector.

The Rosie shook and rumbled out a whale-like roar of anguish as his body was paralyzed by a spasm while the blue electric arcs danced around his form. I charged forward with my drill revved up as I let out a guttural cry of fury. At the last second, the behemoth raised his Rivet Gun up to defend himself. The screech of metal filled The Drop as sparks flew around our ADAM-enhanced bodies.

Within seconds, I had bored through the weapon. The Rosie dropped his useless halves of his tool to the ground before he attempted to assault me with a series of hammer blows. By this time, however, his critically damaged life support system caused his formidable strength to fail him and his blows felt like mere taps. Unable to support his own massive bulk, the dying protector collapsed backwards.

The deafening crash that could only be caused by a toppled Big Daddy filled the entire area. The tank on his back caused his body to end up on its right side. The red light emitting from his three portholes began to flicker as I placed my right booted foot down on his enormous form. Within seconds, I had pierced his helmeted head with my drill and the sound of crunching bone filled the air. My Protector Instincts demanded primal satisfaction and I was powerless to do anything other than act upon them.

Moments later, the behemoth gave off one final deep, rumbling death rattle and the red bioluminescent light coming from the interior of his compromised head flickered into darkness forever. I powered down my drill and ripped it free from the corpse. Satisfied, my instincts receded back down into their place at the back of my mind as the monster was put back in his cage. The red light bathing the area around me was replaced by calming golden yellow. My brother moved to stand before me as I withdrew from the corpse of the fallen Rosie.

With my rational thoughts returning, my attention immediately shifted to the little girl smiling up at me from where she was at my feet. Though her voice remained a Little Sister's, I heard the distinct edge to it that signified that Eleanor was dictating her actions. I marveled at the staggering amount of trust that the Little Sisters had in their "big sister" Eleanor to so willingly donate their bodies so that we could spend time together.

As she offered me her left, sore-covered hand, Eleanor chirped, "I'm telling the other girls that _I_ have the _best_ daddy!" I smiled beneath my emotionless copper face as I knelled before her. Giggling, she raised her arms up for me to lift her up onto my back. I carefully lifted her up with my gloved left hand so that she could ride on her throne. As I did, she lovingly traced the contours of my armored face with the tiny digits of her free left hand as if she was committing them to memory.

The tightening noose around my heart slackened slightly as the temporary bond between us rejuvenated the main link between master and servant. As long as we could maintain these temporary bonds, we could buy ourselves more time for me to reach her. However, we had to be mindful of the girls' heath. They may be immortal but they were still children. Their bodies would tire quickly if we were not careful. It was already above and beyond the call for them to be putting such extraordinary trust in us. I would be damned before I violated their trust.

Once Eleanor was situated, she tapped the top of my head. I thanked my brother, "Thanks, I owe you one."

He dismissed my remark while he motioned with his tool, "Negative. Any time, sir. Watching each others backs is the only way that we are going to get through this."

I grunted in agreement before I asked, "You alright?"

He replied, "Affirmative. My armor plate took most of the rounds." I noticed the new scars on his armored face where the rivets had failed to penetrate. I quietly winced as I felt my ribs still being mended. I forced myself onward as I reminded myself that there was worse pain than that of mere broken ribs in store for me if I did not hurry.

Motioning towards the other side of the diner, I grunted, "Come on, let's get to the Sinclair Deluxe."

As I began to move towards my destination, my brother commented, "Right behind you."


	10. Chapter 10: Delta vs Comstock Part One

Ch. 10: Subject Delta vs. Comstock Part One(flashback)

A.N.:

Everyone, I am so sorry that it has taken me a month and a day to update this story. I could try to defend myself by listing off everything that was preventing me from updating both this story and my F.E.A.R. story for so long. However, I will instead take responsibility for the unacceptable amount of time that it took me and will double my efforts to update more often.

I apologize if there were hurt feelings or dissatisfaction that I caused those of you who have supported this story. I will understand if you stop reading and supporting this story due to my lack of adequate updating.

To the troopers, I thank you and hope that you continue to support and like this story.

Okay, so basically, I know that up until now, the story has been a novelized walkthrough of the game. I have set it apart from the traditional game in multiple ways to finally give it an AU quality in this chapter and the next one, which should be posted late tonight or early in the morning at the latest. It has been so long that I took the liberty of typing up two chapters as an act of contrition for taking so long to update.

Please, open minds with the flashback. I tried very hard to not break continuity. Constants and variables right?

Also, I know that the layout of Market Street is messed up. Just go with it, please.

Thank you to the readers that take the time to read this.

* * *

As we made our way towards the Sinclair Deluxe, Eleanor asked, "Daddy, what are you going to do to Aunt Gracie?"

By then, we were passing the Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine and the El Bandito Vending Machine behind the diner. Confused, I grunted, "Aunt?"

The little girl riding on my back let out a robotic sounding giggle before she chirped, "Of course. Don't you remember?"

Again, I felt something trying to break free in my mind but I was unable to clearly see it my mind's eye. The more I tried to break through the mental block preventing me from uncovering the memory, the more pain it caused me. Finally, I was forced to admit, "No, Eleanor. I…I…can't…"

She giggled for a moment before she said with her Little Sister voice, "Daddy's head is silly. Mother went away for a while and left me in the care of Aunt Gracie. I didn't really like it though." I gave off a grunt with a questioning tone. My charge explained, "No one can replace you, Daddy." I smiled slightly in response.

However, I was uneasy with the whole situation. I did not want to maim or kill the elderly former singer. Eleanor had instructed me to kill anyone that got in my way, and I did not have it in me to deny her will. However, she had unknowingly put me in a paradox. I had to follow her commands, but I also had to ensure that I did not cause her harm in any form.

The exact "whys" and "why not's" of my design were taken to my creators' graves. Being a Big Daddy did not come with a preverbal instructions manual. There were aspects of my design that were still a mystery to me. The paradox of obey vs. protect was one quirk of my programming that I had been able to decode. At any given time, I was to obey Eleanor's commands without hesitation, but I was also to ensure that no harm came to her. My Protector Instincts took priority over everything, even my "Obey" Conditioning. Therefore, if ever there was a situation where obeying her command would cause her harm, her command became null and I was to resolve the situation as best I saw fit.

This override fail-safe was an ingenious way of ensuring the longevity of the Gatherer over the Protector. After all, an Alpha Series Big Daddy without a bonded Gatherer was as useful from a business standpoint as a racehorse with a broken leg. My best guess as to the exact purpose of the fail-safe was that it was meant to render the Alpha Series Big Daddy unable to comply with a "termination" command should the Little Sister ever become aware of her plight.

Regardless of its exact purpose, with her command nullified, I was left to make my own decision regarding how I would obtain the genetic key from Grace. If only I could remember what I had done to make her vindictive not only against me but also all the protectors, I could try to fix the situation. What could I have done that had convinced Grace that I had not only kidnapped Eleanor, turned her into a Little Sister, but also that I was some kind of mindless killing machine? Despite our purpose, those of us in the Alpha Series tended to avoid violence and destruction whenever possible.

Violence only led to more violence. An eye could only be repaid by an eye. I knew these things more than I would prefer. If anything, I was merely reaping what I had sown. I could not hold Gracie responsible for trying to exact revenge on me for something that I had done to her. I assured my daughter, "I will try to resolve this peacefully, Eleanor. I promise."

By then, we had passed the back entrance of the diner. A small fire was in the middle of the zigzag-like path. What appeared to be strips of fake wood paneling was serving as the kindling for the flames. Before us was the watertight door that led to the Sinclair Deluxe. To the right was a titanic, slender window with rounded ends that reached the floor and ceiling of the colossal bulkhead that separated this section of The Drop from the Sinclair Deluxe. Algae partially obscured the window and gave it a green ting.

To our left was a makeshift walkway that was mounted to the side of the diner to allow access to the roof. The walkway was constructed out of wooden boards and metal bars that appeared to be sections of the security barricade that had been laid on top of large wooden boxes that were bigger than the average man. As we approached the cave entrance-like façade around the security bulkhead that led to the hotel, I noticed that the decorative copper strips along the bottom of the walls had turned green from the prolonged exposure to the damp conditions of The Drop.

After we passed through the watertight security door, we came to the tunnels that connected the main area of The Drop to the Sinclair Deluxe. Resembling glass-walled and steel-framed snakes, the tunnel networks were all throughout Rapture. Aside from bathyspheres and the Atlantic Express, the tunnels were the most effective method of traveling around the city. Unfortunately, the unsupported lengths of steel and glass were critically vulnerable to inflicted structural stress. Given the war-torn state of the city, I would prefer that we restricted travel along their network.

Before us was the flat front of the hotel. A decorative gold plated star-shaped neon sign of "The Sinclair Deluxe" was mounted to the front of the hotel beyond the fork in the tunnel. Above the sign was a slime-covered, female Poseidon-like statue. Along the front of the hotel near the top, beneath the green slime, I saw a two wide rounded portholes that vaguely resembled eyes. Though I only saw the figure for a brief moment, I could make out the disturbingly apathetic expression on Grace's face as she pierced my armor with her glare from the left porthole. I mentally shivered. I had known hardened killers and rapists while I had been locked up in Persephone that had been incapable of such a cold glare.

After our brief stare down, Grace calmly backed away from the porthole and disappeared into the hotel's interior. No! I forced my heavy frame forward as fast as I could manage without dislodging Eleanor, much to her delight as she squealed in excitement. My footsteps shook the tunnel and their rumbling report echoed through the area. With my drill revved up, I charged towards the right entrance. When the security bulkhead failed to open in time, I used my momentum to bulldoze through the obstacle. I briefly lost my sense of hearing as the shriek of strained metal ripped through The Drop. The security door submitted to my assault and fell backwards onto the cracked tile floor of the lobby. Only faltering momentarily as I regained my sense of balance, I continued forward around the corner past the check-in desk.

However, I was too late. Just as I reached the long, wide hallway that led to the area where the elevator and stairs were located, a Brute Splicer appeared. Grabbing a red metal barrel, the hulking abomination informed me, "Gracie says piss off an' die you tin shit house." Before I could stop him, the brute threw the barrel into the support beam above the entrance. The decayed fail-safe for the hotel was triggered and a huge watertight bulkhead slammed down, blocking our path further into the hotel.

Having had halted my advance when I had seen the Brute Splicer, I growled in irritation as I punched the thin wall to my left with my gauntlet-encased left fist. My strike pulverized the flimsy walling, literally crushing it into powder. Having had vented my frustration, I withdrew my fist. Alpha, having had spliced himself to be more suited for mid-to-long range combat and not violent close quarters combat, finally caught up to me seconds later. Upon seeing the massive obstacle in our way, he let out a strange noise that vaguely sounded like a sigh.

My built-in radio activated and, seconds later, Sinclair said, "Well sport…I guess Gracie's home…but that big lug just dropped my damn hotel's security gate in your way. I had it installed as a kind of insurance policy 'case the tenants got other ideas 'bout payin' their rent. Used to be remote override but Gracie put an end to that. Now, we're stuck here 'til you get that key. Work out a way to get it open again."

As my radio deactivated, my mind began to race. Even fully enraged, Subject Delta, that monster inside of me, could not brute force his way through a security gate like this. It was at least five feet of solid steel. Brute force was not going to cut it here. Looking around, I noticed a large yellow fuel pump mounted on the left wall. How heat resistant would something like this be? We could not cut through something like this even with an acetylene torch. However, there was one thing that I knew about from my Navy days that could cut through something as thick as this bulkhead.

Red iron (III) oxide plus aluminum powder, commonly known as Thermite. It was easy to manufacture and could burn through almost everything. "Thermite? Daddy?" Eleanor asked with concern in her enchanting voice from where she was riding on my back.

I grunted back, "Unless you have a better idea, Eleanor."

She asked, "How are you going to make some?"

I explained, "The ingredients are commonplace and it is easy enough to make if you know what you are doing."

My brother suggested, "The markets downtown should have what we need."

I grunted in agreement and we began to make our way back towards the main area of The Drop. As we moved towards the exit, I noticed that advertisement posters for Sofia's practice adorned the walls. I mentally sighed. The Splicers must have turned the Sinclair Deluxe into a recruitment center/safe house for Sofia's Flock. We were in for one hell of a fight once we got past the gate.

As we went back through the compromised entrance, I mentally went through what we would need. In my days in the United States Navy, we had used it for underwater welding. It was perfect for that task as it contained its own source of oxygen and water tended to boil around the intense heat of the reaction so it was damn near impossible to extinguish. My memories of those days were becoming harder and harder to remember but I was able to recall the bits of information that I had picked up about Thermite through idle conversations with the eggheads that I was often paired with during projects.

Thermite was, for the sake of simplicity, metal powder that burned at extremely high temperatures in specific circumstances. There were many different formulas to create Thermite but I only knew enough about its most common form to be able to create what we needed. We needed a fuel and an oxidizer. The fuel source was aluminum powder. Given that Andrew Ryan constructed Rapture out of aluminum in order to prevent drawing attention to the secret building project, the metal was going to be easy to obtain. The oxidizer was iron oxide, commonly known as rust. Given the state of The Drop, that was going to be easy to obtain as well.

Since I did not have the proper tools, I was only going to be able to manufacture a very crude mixture that would, at best, be one forth as potent as industrial grade Thermite. Because of the lack of tools to properly manufacture the mixture, we would have to use the crude mixture to weaken the gate and then use brute strength to finish off the obstacle.

Upon returning to the tunnel, I noticed that the far left security door that led to part of the market district was boarded up and had sandbags in front of it. The splicers had the right idea for funneling potential attackers of the hotel, I would give them that. I also noted the multiple patches of dried blood pools on the metal flooring of the tunnel. How contested was The Family? I had thought that The Drop was a safe haven for Sofia's followers. From what I was seeing, that was not actually the case. Perhaps, we could use that to our advantage.

As I neared the security gate that allowed access to the area around the Fishbowl Diner, I was suddenly assaulted by an invisible assailant. My entire body went numb as all of their strength was suddenly purged from my muscles. At the same time, a sharp stab of unimaginable agony erupted around my heart while the assailed muscle's strained beats pounded in my ears. The veins in my eyes flared, allowing me to see them as they flashed with vivid colors.

Unable to support my massive frame, my knees buckled. Immediately thinking of the safety of my companion, I steered my body just in time to prevent falling on top of her. I collapsed up against the nearby tunnel wall while I let out a mournful cry of pure misery. The glass cracked in a spider web pattern as my left shoulder made contact with it but it held up just barely.

Above the sound of the report of my heart as it stubbornly fought on in defiance of my body's self-destruction programming, I heard Eleanor crying out in alarm and for Alpha to release her. He must have been holding her back to protect her from me should I be driven mad. Though it only lasted for a few seconds, it felt like an eternity of hell as the maddening agony racked my entire body. If I could have grabbed the sides of my head, I would have ripped the flesh off of the bone in my pain-fueled madness. Unable to do anything else, I mentally steeled myself to hold onto my sanity. I could not give in! I would return to my master's side even if I had to go through Hell itself in order to do so!

Eventually, the agony began to subside and my strength began to return. After I had forced my frame back upright, Eleanor ran up to me and wrapped her thin arms around my tree trunk-like right leg. My daughter cried as she pressed her face into the rough fabric of my suit. Though the fresh memory of the agony still afflicted my mind, it was easily overpowered by the guilt that I felt for upsetting my precious Eleanor. I let out a reassuring grunt as I placed my left hand on her back.

After a few seconds, Eleanor composed herself and withdrew from my frame while she gazed up at me through the Little Sister's glowing eyes. Green streaks of ADAM coated her pale cheeks from when she had been crying and her breathing was still ragged as she slowly calmed down. I moved my massive gloved left hand to cup her right cheek as I let out a low, rumbling groan. She pressed my hand against her cheek with her tiny hands and then smiled as she leaned into my touch.

When she finally calmed down, she said, "We need to get fresh ADAM into you, Daddy. It will help." Not waiting for me to reply, she grasped my left hand with her tiny right hand and began to pull me along behind her as she guided me towards the nearest ADAM-filled corpse. Weakness remained in my muscles and I felt like a hollow shell. However, I refused to show weakness in front of my master. Forcing my body onwards, I rallied my aching muscles.

We entered the area around the diner and she led me to the right. To our right, I saw the Rosie Mass Production Model that had been crushed by the collapsed corridor. Beyond the Rosie against the wall was a Little Sister Vent. As we got closer, I also noticed that there was a burn barrel, which had a fire inside of it, between the Rosie and the Vent. We passed between the main entrance to The Drop and the front of the diner as Eleanor guided me towards the strange structure that I had noticed upon first entering the area.

A sense of nostalgia filled me as I fixated on the small child that was pulling me along behind her. I had never known true happiness and peace before I gathered with my beautiful Eleanor. She had an energy and personality that was simply intoxicating. How someone like myself ended up being the companion of someone like her was simply beyond me. My aching heart tightened painfully as it finally hit home that those days were over and had been over for nearly ten years.

The cheerful, curious child that I had faithfully guarded and accompanied through the streets of Rapture was gone. Sofia Lamb had killed her the day that she forced the girl's best friend and father figure to kill himself in front of her eyes. The goddess-like young woman that she was now was still my Eleanor but she was also not my Eleanor at the same time. This new Eleanor reminded me of another woman that I had encountered shortly before my demise. The woman had become so consumed by the desire to kill a certain man that she had sold her own humanity in order to so so. My mind drifted as the memory played in my mind's eye.

* * *

"Can we go clothes shopping since we are here already, Daddy?" I stood with my drill at the ready, though I felt foolish doing so since we were in one of the best sections of the city. All around us was Rapture's finest in every form from the architecture to the people eying us as we gathered from what was probably the first body that this shopping district had ever seen. My Protector Instincts deactivated as I realized that, for the first time in nearly a week, the splicers would not make an appearance during the gathering session.

Lowering my drill back down to my side, I turned to face my charge. My ever beautiful daughter, in her blue and white Little Sister dress that she had been forced to wear after an attacking splicer had ruined her white one, was kneeling over the corpse of a middle aged woman that was dressed in the typical attire of an upper class citizen of Rapture. Judging by the body's contorted posture on the ornate wooden floor, the telltale appearance of the eyes, and the froth around her mouth, the woman had overdosed on a controlled substance. She had likely been in a downward spiral for quite some time and had been using ADAM to hide the physical signs of her problem out of shame and fear of being alienated by her peers.

Eleanor never suffered any ill effects from ingesting the blood of people like this woman due to the fact that the slug inside of her was a bottom feeder in its natural habitat and was, therefore, well-equipped to handle anything that human beings could be carrying. I replied with a series of grunts, "No, it is getting late. After this, I am taking you home."

She finished off the last bit of blood that she had gathered from the corpse. Then, showing her tomboy personality off, Eleanor shamelessly burped loudly, causing a nearby woman dressed in upper class attire to state, "Why I never…" However, her husband, noticing me eying her, quickly silenced her and then led her away before she caused me to attack her.

Standing, Eleanor giggled at her own burp briefly and then protested, "Please?" I silently looked at her in thought for a moment. She placed her tiny hands together, with her gather tool held between them, up by her chest and smiled brightly while her glowing eyes gave off a radiant yellow light. She added with her British accented voice that had been changed to mimic a French accent, "Je suis une bonne fille, papa." (I am a good girl, daddy.)

I smiled beneath my emotionless face. Eleanor's Little Sister brainwashing was continuing to weaken. It had only been a few months since they had turned her into a Gatherer but, already, her mind was fighting through the programming. The genius-level intellect that she possessed combined with her strong will was proving to be more than a match for Dr. Alexander's Gatherer Programming. I guess, some birds just could not be caged.

More and more, she was giving indications that she was almost free from the mental conditioning of her condition. In fact, she had progressed so much that I idly wondered if, looking back, she would even be able to remember her time as Little Sister beyond vague recollections of the impulsive hunger and the "happy place". She had been a self-taught polyglot, among other things, and was now reclaiming the many languages that she had been very fluent in prior to her transformation into a Little Sister.

My resolve melted and I let out an agreeing grunt as I bent down to allow her to stand on her throne on my back. She squealed with excitement and then quickly climbed up onto her throne. When she had situated herself, she tapped the top of my copper head and said with a humorous tone, "Forward ho, Daddy." Laughing with my repeated grunts, I began to make my way down Market Street.

The people we passed were clearly not accustomed to a Big Daddy and his Little Sister casually walking amongst them as if they were ordinary residents of Rapture. Their stuffy, self-righteous composure would vanish as they gasped and recoiled away from us as I approached them. I humorously noted that their repulsion of my appearance was, fittingly enough, what kept them safe as they kept a distance away from my beautiful master and thus avoided my rage-fueled rebuttals.

I climbed a flight of stairs. To our left was one of many giant glass walls that allowed someone to look out over the magnificence of that which was Rapture as it sat on the seafloor. A whale passed between the building that we were in and the one that hosted the Kashmir Restaurant. Twisting my torso to the right briefly, I half-heartedly took note of an advertisement for Sander Cohen's "Why Even Ask" album.

Upon reaching the landing, I was still glancing to my right. There, I saw a simple wooden frame and glass-windowed door. On the surface of the glass, which was reinforced with crisscrossing strips of metal that were sandwiched between the interior and exterior surfaces, I saw the name, "Booker DeWitt", and, below it, "Private Investigator" in plain black font.

There was something unsettling about the door's appearance but I could not understand why it made me uncomfortable. Perhaps, it was the fact that I could not see inside of the establishment. Instead, all I could see was a bright white light. However, the most likely explanation was the one that made the least sense. The door was out of place as if the physical object, the establishment itself, and the occupants beyond the impenetrable white light did not belong in Rapture.

I shook off the uneasy feeling and turned my torso so that I was facing forward once more. What did I care? Whoever or whatever that DeWitt individual was, he was not my concern. Eleanor was all that I cared about anymore. If DeWitt endangered my beautiful Eleanor, then I would kill him just as I had killed every other fool who thought that he could match Subject Delta in a death match. I did not care what form of providence or supernatural force protected an individual. If he or she could bleed, I could kill them.

As we continued forward, I noticed a woman that was fixated on the door that I had just been looking at. The middle aged woman was wearing a long sleeve white buttoned shirt with a black collar and black cuffs. She was wearing a simple but stylish black skirt with a belt that drew attention to her thin waist. Her legs were covered with black fishnet stockings and she was wearing black high-heeled shoes. Around her neck, she wore a red ribbon and a pendent that had a white bird, which resembled a dove, in the center of a purple background.

She had a fair white complexion with two small but still noticeable blemishes on her right cheek that added character to her face rather than deducting from it. Her dark brown hair was cut in the short but stylish manner that was popular among the middle and upper class women in Rapture. Her cheeks were slightly pronounced but not enough to deduct from her feminine beauty. Her dark red lips were drawn tight in an expression of intense focus.

However, it was her blue eyes that drew my attention. The edge in them as she glared at the door unnerved me slightly. Whoever this woman was, she intended to inflict great ill upon DeWitt. I wanted to feel sympathy for Booker but, judging by the look of cold calculation in the woman's otherwise enchanting eyes, the man did not deserve it. Whatever pain DeWitt had caused this woman, she would show him no mercy when the time came to pay back the debt he owed her.

Her eyes softened ever so slightly as we passed into her line of sight. What I could only describe as sympathy entered her expression as she idly followed us with her eyes while I made my way past her. I was struck by the nature of the sympathy that she held for us. Rather than the sympathy that we normally received, which was for being _what_ we were, a Big Daddy and a Little Sister that had been forced into those roles, the mysterious woman had sympathy for _who_ we were, Subject Delta and Eleanor Lamb.

As grateful as I was that at least one person saw the human beings that we still were rather than the monsters that we had been transformed into, I was uneasy with her inexplicable knowledge of us. How did she know us? I was certain that I had never seen her before. Perhaps, she knew Eleanor somehow? That must have been it. She knew Eleanor and had simply recognized her despite her Little Sister appearance. Maybe she was a sympathetic supporter or even a committed ally of Eleanor's incarcerated mother.

However, I dismissed that possibility. The look in her eyes told a different story. The knowledge that she possessed about us was borderline intimate. How? As infamous as we had become to the citizens of Rapture, public knowledge about us was superficial at best. To the rest of Rapture, we were simply Subject Delta and Eleanor by title rather than name. We were a curiosity, nothing more. However, this woman knew us enough to have been our long lost best friend and confidant.

The entire encounter lasted little more than a few seconds. Moving forward, I continued past the woman and made my way towards the elevator that would take us to High Street. I knew where Eleanor wanted to go because I had promised to take her there nearly a month prior. I would have taken her there sooner if the conflict between Atlas and Ryan had not created an ever increasing demand of Plasmids and Gene Tonics. Finally, with New Year's Eve mere days away, we had finally gotten our chance.

Even when we were far away from the woman, I continued to sense her presence. Was she following us? Frightening everyone around us, I wheeled around with my drill revved up. I did not know what the woman's motives were but I would be damned before I let her harm my Eleanor. However, when I turned around to face behind us, she was not amongst the fleeing citizens. In fact, she was nowhere to be found. How was that possible? My Protector Instincts had never been wrong before. I had been certain that she had been following us.

I powered down my drill and stood there scanning the area very carefully in case she had simply been hiding, had used a Houdini Teleportation Plasmid, or had used a Peeping Tom Plasmid. The latter two left a telltale mark in the air if one knew what to look for. In addition to the telltale mark in the air that had been learned by my kind to counter it, The Peeping Tom Plasmid was virtually useless against the true Big Daddies of the Alpha Series due to our psychological bonds to our daughters, who could still "see" the user due to their ability to smell the ADAM of the splicer.

Eleanor chirped, "Yay! You rescued me from the spooky lady, Daddy! Come on, let's hurry before they close." While I was not convinced that I had chased off our pursuer, I did not want to disappoint my beautiful daughter. I let out a threatening roar for good measure before I turned back around and then continued towards our destination. If that woman wanted a fight, the monster inside of me would be happy to oblige. I would kill her just like any other threat to my charge. They could use whatever little tricks that they fancied and warped themselves into whatever little freak shows that their hearts desired. It did not matter to me. They all died just the same.

Nearly half an hour later, I entered the retail clothing establishment named Maison Vosges in the upper class market area of High Street. The Italian shopkeeper started to greet us in a sophisticated tone but then paused when he saw us. Ignoring his lack of manners, I lowered my enormous frame down onto my left knee to allow Eleanor to safely dismount. My daughter jumped down and I returned to standing upright. Eleanor excitedly ran up to the shopkeeper and addressed him after first bowing in a courtly manner, "Buon giorno, signore. Voglio sfogliare la selezione di abiti." (Good day, sir. I want to browse the selection of dresses.)

I had no idea what she had said exactly, but I knew that it had been something along the lines of wanting to look through the store's dresses. However, the shopkeeper clearly understood her but hesitated and looked back further into his store at the already present patrons that were glancing at us and then at him with looks of disapproval. So, was that the game that the rich pricks wanted to play? Well, two could play at that game.

I retrieved the, rather large, collection of money from the hollow compartment along my weighted diving belt. The money clip was stretched as far as it could go as it strained to hold the pieces of legal tender together. I hardly ever used the currency that I collected so I had amassed a substantial amount of wealth that rivaled even that of the most powerful individuals in Rapture. I had most of it in my locker at Fontaine Futuristics but I carried around a respectable amount of it in case a situation arose.

Holding the money clip in my gauntlet-encased left hand, I raised it up so that the shopkeeper could see it. My message was clear: if he treated my Eleanor with the respect that she deserved, we could both profit from this like civilized adults. He gave me the most subtle of nods and then addressed Eleanor, "Sì, signora. Un momento." He turned and then addressed the other patrons, "This establishment has been reserved for a private function. I must ask you to leave, now."

With expressions of shock etched on their faces, the upper class pricks began to leave the store. The shopkeeper then turned back to Eleanor and addressed her in a chivalrous manner, "Vieni con me, signorina Eleanor."

He began to lead her towards the section of dresses that were more of her size. Being ever polite, Eleanor replied, "Grazie per il vostro tempo, signore."

Without looking back, the man assured her, "Non c'è problema, signora." I followed behind them but stayed far enough away to let Eleanor have her space. For what seemed like hours, she slowly browsed the store's dresses while I patiently remained vigilant for signs of trouble. To the shopkeeper's credit, he never diverged from his chivalrous mannerisms. I would have even gone so far as to suggest that he actually enjoyed conversing with her. Who could blame him though? Eleanor was always very charming.

Finally, she entered a dressing room to try on her selections. When she came out, I was stunned by her new appearance. The bland blue and white Little Sister dress and simple crude black shoes that she had been wearing before had been replaced by a beautiful white dress and matching white shoes that, combined with her flawless frost grey skin, gave her a surreal angelic appearance. While I maintained my emotionless facade, in reality I was using all my willpower to keep from melting.

She smiled brightly as she spun around for me to take in her new appearance. I smiled beneath my armored face. My daughter certainly deserved to have clothing that was just as beautiful as she was. When she finally stopped spinning, she asked, "What do you think, Daddy?"

I replied, "You're very beautiful, Eleanor."

She giggled while she raised her balled hands up to her cheeks for a moment before she said, "Thank you, Daddy."

Later, after purchasing her new outfit, we were leaning against the railing of the nearby path while we looked at the splendor of the surrounding seascape through one of the many giant glass windows located around High Street. The bioluminescence of the surrounding sea life and the lights of the city combined to create a truly humbling sight that was unlike anything found on the surface.

Below us on our left, I noticed the bizarre spectacle of business suited-men wearing bunny masquerade masks that were shifting their postures ever so often while they stood on top of separate columns in front of Sander Cohen's private Neverland called "Garden of Muses". It was an invitation only type of establishment. I mentally scoffed. Cohen was living proof that sometimes an individual was not an artist, he was just psychologically disturbed.

However, sometimes, I got the impression that Cohen's behavior was just a front that he used to hide a more sinister personality. It would be along the same thought process of being so overt that you are covert. After all, Rapture's Law Enforcement officials seemed to want to have so little to do with the "mad artist" that they outright refused to investigate the rumors that Cohen ran, among other things, a child slavery ring.

According to Eleanor, the rumors were true. It had been Cohen that mediated her purchase by the orphanage after she had been kidnapped. Luckily, due to what was Cohen's own twisted definition of "professional curtsey", he sold Eleanor to the orphanage rather than keeping her for his own sick purposes as a "favor" to Sofia Lamb. Eleanor said that Cohen saw Sofia as an "artist of the mind" and had told my daughter, while she was in his care, that he would not violate the child of a fellow artist. Cohen only believed in violating a fellow competitor, not a fellow competitor's child.

Presently, a giant squid passed within inches of the exterior of the glass window as it swam past the building. From where she was sitting on top of my massive left arm that I had positioned to be like a perch for her, Eleanor giggled with delight before she commented, "Whoa!" Then, she asked, "Are there animals that big on the surface, Daddy?"

I replied, "Not in length. On the surface, organisms are affected by gravity more so than they would be in the ocean. So, they get heavier rather than bigger size wise. The biggest animal on the surface that I know of is the elephant and they are very impressive to see in person."

My master said, "Oh, I've read about those. My books said that they are six tons!"

I laughed with repeated grunts before I remarked, "I would not argue with that. They are huge and very strong animals."

Eleanor teased, "Stronger than you, Daddy?"

I smirked and then replied, "Nothing is stronger than your old man, Eleanor."

She clapped in delight at my response, causing me to laugh slightly. However, her tone change to one of longing when she commented, "I would like to see a real elephant on the surface."

I assured her, "You will, Eleanor. I promise I will find a way for us to escape someday."

"I know a way to escape."

Turning my entire body to the left, I found the mysterious woman from earlier standing before us. How had she sneaked up on me like that? It did not seem possible. Not even Houdini Splicers had ever gotten the drop on me like this woman had. Even more troubling was that she had understood me when I had spoken to Eleanor. What was she? I lowered Eleanor to the ground and then roared threateningly at the possible threat to my charge while I entered a combat stance with my drill at the ready. Meanwhile, Eleanor stood behind my right leg as she peered out to look at the woman from around the side of it.

The woman raised her hands up as if she was surrendering and said, "That will not be necessary Mister Topside. My name is Elizabeth and I am in need of your help."

Eleanor cried, "No Daddy. Spooky lady!"

Elizabeth asked, "Why am I spooky, Eleanor?"

My master, frightened back into her Little Sister mannerisms, replied with her edged Gatherer tone, "One of these things does not belong! Equals bad! You bad! Bad spooky lady!"

Elizabeth smiled and then said, "Eleanor, I am here to find my friend's cat...my friend's name is Schrödinger. Perhaps…you have seen Schrödinger's cat?"

Eleanor was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her Little Sister mannerisms had vanished and her voice was once again British accented. She replied with a tone that indicated that she was unconvinced of whatever it was that Elizabeth had claimed, "Maybe…but if that were true then you would be here but you would also not be here."

Having absolutely no idea what the two were talking about, I simply continued to ensure that Elizabeth stayed a safe distance away from my Eleanor. The mysterious woman smiled again and reached into one of her pockets. Seconds later, she withdrew a strange silver coin that I had never seen before but vaguely reminded me of a silver dollar. Holding it between her left index finger and thumb in a way that Eleanor could only see one of the flat sides of the coin due to her perspective, she said, "I see tails…"

Eleanor remarked, "…but I see heads."

Elizabeth then rotated the coin so the opposite was now true and said, "And now, I see heads…"

Eleanor remarked with a tone that indicated that her stance on the matter had slightly shifted towards believing the woman, "…but now I see tails."

Elizabeth then rotated the coin again, but this time she stopped it when only the thin side was visible to both of them. She said, "Now, the coin is…"

Eleanor, with a tone that indicated that she was nearly convinced that Elizabeth was telling the truth, finished, "stuck between heads and tails…superposition." The older brunette smiled once again and raised her right hand so that we could see her fingers properly. I heard Eleanor gasp quietly. I saw it too.

Part of Elizabeth's pinky was gone as if it had been severed when she was very young and then had healed as best it could. However the cut had been so clean that the only thing that came to my mind was a surgical blade. I did not delude myself into believing that I even remotely understood what this woman was or whatever mind boggling reason allowed her to exist. However, if she was what she said she was, then her offer of knowledge on how to escape might also be true.

Eleanor moved to stand in front of me and asked, "You know a way that we can escape?"

Elizabeth replied, "Yes. If you help me, it will be your payment."

I asked with my Alpha Series voice, "What do you want?"

Elizabeth turned and walked to the railing. She leaned against it while she had both of her hands placed on top of it. Looking towards the glass windows, she explained, "There is a man here in Rapture that does not belong…"

Realizing that my suspicions had been correct, I asked, "Booker DeWitt?"

Her voice filled with anger, Elizabeth corrected me, "He is _not _Booker! Booker is dead. His name is Comstock."

Already having a good idea where this conversation was going, I asked, "What do you want with Comstock?"

The brunette explained with a cold, emotionless tone, "I am planning on luring him into a trap. There is a girl that he is attached to named Sally. He lost her gambling at Sir Prize. He thinks that she is dead but really, she was kidnapped and turned into a Little Sister…just like you Eleanor. New Year's Eve, I want you to follow us and when I have lured him into the trap, I want you to kill him. Do that, and the knowledge on how to escape will be yours."

Eleanor asked, "Why us?"

Elizabeth replied, "What do you mean?"

My daughter explained, "You seem the resourceful type. Why not just hire some of the desperate people of Apollo Square or some of Ryan's guards that are looking for some extra cash on the side? Surely you could find some people that are willing to do this for you. You risked my Daddy attacking you just to talk to us. Why?"

Looking back towards us, Elizabeth explained, "How do I put this? Comstock is not your average mark. He is a very dangerous man and I have watched even the strongest of fighters fail to kill him. I am not leaving Rapture as long as he is alive. He has to die and very reliable sources have informed me that you, Subject Delta, are the one man in Rapture that is a match for him."

Who was this man? A mere private investigator that was so dangerous that a woman, who was apparently hell bent on killing him, had risked being violently torn apart just to enlist the aid of the original and strongest Big Daddy and his bonded Little Sister in order to kill him made no sense. Rapture was full of hardened criminals and professional killers. Surely, this woman could have found someone else.

I did not like any part of this purposed arrangement. For all I knew, it was a trap by Sofia to reclaim Eleanor. What was to say that she would not betray us once the deed had been done? Maybe she was simply a crafty splicer and this was all some unnecessarily complicated set up to get the ADAM out of Eleanor. There was more to this. There had to be more to this. Any of the lumbering Tin Men would have been more than enough to kill Comstock. Why us?

I confronted her, "You're lying, ma'am. If you are taking us for fools, let me assure you that we are not. You want our help? Then you are going to have to level with us. Otherwise, keep walking and find some other sobs to do your dirty work."

Elizabeth left the railing and stood before us. The brunette said with a plain tone, "Comstock took someone very important away from me, okay? I would have thought that you two, of all people, would be able to understand my pain."

Eleanor gasped and then remarked, "Booker was…"

Elizabeth interrupted, "…my father. My true father. You remind me of him, Johnny Topside. I can see that you truly love your daughter and that she truly loves you. That is why I have gone to such lengths to enlist your help. I want to help ensure that you two avoid the same fate as my father and I. However, if you wish to tempt the cruel algorithm of possibility, then by all means, I will leave."

If this was an elaborate setup, then its architects deserved more than all of the ADAM in Rapture. Something bad was in store for Eleanor and I in the future. As her Protector, I had to ensure that no harm ever came to her. That meant pursuing every possible opportunity to gain an edge over fate regardless of how absurd the circumstances around them were.

Eleanor turned and looked up at me with her trusting eyes. The thought of failing her hardened my resolve. What was wrong with me? I was her father, her guardian. A way to protect my perfect angel was being handed to me on a silver platter! How could I not accept Elizabeth's offer? However, there was one final concern that was troubling me.

Eleanor, sensing my agreement through our bond, turned to face Elizabeth and then informed her, "We will accept your offer on the condition that Sally is not to be harmed."

The brunette assured us, "I give you my word that Sally will not be harmed."

Eleanor replied, "We are at your service then, Miss DeWitt."

Elizabeth smiled and then said, "Thank you. Now, it is best that we are not seen together again until New Year's Eve. I trust that you will be able to handle your end without me?"

I grunted, "Don't worry about that. Just get Comstock cornered and I will handle the rest."

She nodded and then departed from us without a word. Eleanor turned back to face me. Smiling, she said, "Come on, Daddy. Let's go home." I grunted in agreement and began to lower myself down onto my left knee so that she could climb up to ride on my back. After my master was situated, I stood and began to make my way towards a suitable spot for Eleanor to sleep curled up against my chest while I rested myself. Lately, she outright refused to sleep anywhere else, even the vents.

My mind was racing at the possibility of escaping Rapture with Eleanor. With any luck, this little job would be straightforward and then we could escape. It would be very easy to escape while the city was recovering from its post-New Year's Eve hangover. All I had to do was follow the pair and then kill Comstock. Once I did that, we would be free from Rapture forever.


	11. Chapter 11: Delta vs Comstock Part Two

Ch. 11: Subject Delta vs. Comstock Part 2 (flashback)

A.N.:

Hey everyone! As promised, the second chapter. Only a few hours late right?

I would like to add that I do like the characters in Infinite and am not claiming anything regarding certain characters being better/worse.

I just love the characters in BioShock 2 xD

Anyway,

This is the end of the flashback, which ends at a point that we all should be familiar with :( That's okay though because it is a happy story in the end. Again, I tried very hard to maintain continuity and still have an AU story.

Read and review if you want.

* * *

New Year's Eve

1958

Somewhere beneath the Atlantic Ocean

* * *

The sounds of the crumbling of concrete and plaster, the snapping of wooden boards, the thundering of my footsteps, and the sick crunching of splicers' bones were lost to me as the little girl's agonized wails filled my entire being while I rushed to her aid. My surroundings were a blur as I smashed through walls, security gates, and anything else that got in my way. Any splicer that failed to react in time was violently tramped beneath my weighted diving boots as I charged full speed towards Sally's cries for help.

Everything in front of me was awash with the hellish red light being emitted from my segmented eye. My rational, calm thoughts were gone. In their place was the molten, primal rage of my Protector Instincts. Indeed, the monster Subject Delta had been let out of his cage. Even my ever forgiving and compassionate master was so furious about the betrayal that she was shaking with anger where she was in her favorite spot in the ducts of the Little Sister Vent network back in Rapture.

Hours earlier, Elizabeth had put her plan into action. As she masterfully tricked Comstock into following her while she led him towards his ultimate demise, I slowly followed them from a distance. As luck would have it, Comstock had spliced Devil's Kiss, an early version of the powerful Incinerate! Home Defense Plasmid, and Possession, a discontinued early Plasmid Line. As such, Eleanor had been able to track their movements from inside the Little Sister Vent network.

I had thought that Elizabeth had trapped Comstock when they entered The Garden of Muses after securing an invitation mask. However, something must have happened because, minutes later, I saw an unconscious Comstock and Elizabeth being taken from the establishment to one of Cohen's private bathyspheres by some his guards. Knowing that even if I had followed them I would be unable to keep pace with the submersible, I instead ripped an advertisement posture with Elizabeth's picture on it off a wall and went to The Garden of Muses.

I forced my way to the inner sanctuary of the lunatic. There, I found the artist and tried to interrogate him about where he had sent them by thrusting the picture of Elizabeth into his face as he was examining a painting of the two individuals that he had apparently drawn while they were dancing in the rigged platform before him. The nut job had been rather amused by my actions and ranted some nonsense about me, my paintings of blood on the canvas that was Rapture, and how my art rivaled the work of the masters. He had then asked me, with genuine curiosity, "Where did you study?"

Losing my patience, I had lifted him up into the air by his throat with my left hand. Cohen began to laugh like a madman and did not stop until I pressed my whirling drill's razor sharp tip into his manhood as a final warning. I should have followed through with my threat. Even if only half of what Eleanor had told me about the man was true, then I would have been doing Rapture a favor by castrating him. However, I had more important problems to attend to and when he had informed me that he had sent them to Fontaine's Department Store, I left him to whatever sick art abominations he fancied.

Eleanor wanted to go with me to the sunken department store turned prison for Fontaine's splicer army, but I refused, saying that I could not protect her from the hordes of deranged addicts and fight Comstock at the same time. She agreed to stay in Rapture but made sure to make it known that she was doing so under protest.

Unknown to Andrew Ryan, he had failed to truly isolate the condemned building from the rest of the city. There was a path that snaked down the near sheer drop of the ocean floor. It was difficult and extremely dangerous if one did not know the way, but it did lead to a small outcropping along the trench wall. There, the Housewares building had come to rest up against the side of the trench. The outcropping was just the right level to allow a Big Daddy to reach one of the airlocks that allowed access into the building's interior.

Even with my specialized diving suit and genetic modifications, the trip was nearly a death wish. The beam of my headlamp only cut into the pitch black abyss about a foot out in front of me. On a previous trip, a passing giant squid had seen the light coming from my lamp and had decided that I was a meal. The razor sharp tip of my drill going through one of his enormous eyes had ended both that notion and the creature's life. This time, my trip was without incident and I entered the building through the airlock.

I tracked Elizabeth's and Comstock's progress as they struggled to survive against the splicers. I had to admit that the man knew his way around a brawl. Their struggle against the deranged residents was understandable considering that all three buildings were practically stuffed to the brim with Fontaine's thugs. The splicers held a great fear of me and usually fled upon my approach though there were always those who were so desperate for ADAM that they were willing to fight a Big Daddy in a one-on-one death match without even making sure that said Protector was even escorting a Little Sister before attacking him.

I was confused about what it was exactly that they were doing. The way that Elizabeth had explained her plan, both Eleanor and I had gotten the impression that Sally was only bait to lure Comstock to a place that he could not flee from, and, in that regard, did not even have to be actually there at all. The only thing that mattered was that he believed that Sally was somewhere so that he would willingly place himself in a position that was impossible to escape from.

Due to our pair bond, Eleanor was able to perceive everything that I did. Both of us grew increasingly concerned as the pair closed off the Little Sister Vents. Wanting to believe that the woman was good-natured and would never put a child in harm's way, Eleanor suggested that maybe Elizabeth was driving Comstock deeper and deeper into the building just to be on the safe side. After all, the deeper she managed to lure him, the less likely it would be that he would be able to escape. If she managed to lure him into the very heart of the building, even if he somehow managed to escape me during our confrontation, I would have managed to severely injure him by that time and the army of splicers would finish him off as he attempted to flee.

I admit that even I wanted to believe that our new associate was still a decent person despite the unimaginable pain that had been inflicted upon her. Surely, she was incapable of justifying the harming of an innocent little girl, a Little Sister no less, as being means to an end. However, all of our hope in Elizabeth's character proved to be horribly misplaced.

I was nearing the customer service center when I had first heard the sound that made my blood run cold. Shattering the relative calm of the area, the most god-awful, heart-wrenching scream erupted from somewhere ahead of me. I had never heard such intense agony in a scream before and I had dragged burning sailors out of a destroyed Mark 12 5-inch Naval gun turret on the destroyer that I was serving aboard after a Japanese Kamikaze Zero crashed into us off Okinawa.

I heard the robotic tone in the child's voice. There had been no mistaking it. Sally was in desperate need of help. Eleanor had screamed through our link, "_Daddy! She lied! She lied! They hurt Sally! Bad man and bad lady hurt my sister! Kill them Daddy! Kill them all!_"

At the same time that my master had demanded that I killed all those who were responsible for Sally's torture, mental images of the poor girl being burned alive had filled my mind. The call for blood had gone out. Subject Delta had been let out of his cage. Even if Elizabeth had known what she had unleashed and brought down upon herself, there was nothing that she could have done to stop it. Not even Eleanor could have calmed my blood lust.

The artificial fury of my Protector Instincts had filled me with such intensity that it had felt like I too was being burned alive. Every single nerve ending in my body had blasted my mind with sharp, burning sensations that had felt like I was being stabbed by millions of needles. In pure agony from my own homicidal rage, I had let out a primal roar that had been so loud that I had temporarily rendered myself deaf before beginning my unstoppable charge towards the wailing Little Sister.

Now, as I neared the Toy Department, I began to hear voices. I recognized one of the voices as the one belonging to the lying bitch. The other must have been the one belonged to the man that was the cause of all of this. The already maddening rage inside of me spiraled even further out of control as I realized that the pair were telling Sally to come out of her Hidey Hole.

She was still in her sanctuary? Then why was she screaming in such a horrible manner? Suddenly, it all made sense. They had closed the other vents except for the one in the Toy Department so that she could only escape through that one exit. Then, they had done the unimaginable by raising the setting of the central heater to the point that they had been literally cooking her alive inside the ducts. Forced to flee to her only escape route, Sally was now facing death on all sides.

Contrary to the popular belief among the splicers, there were actually two ways of killing a Little Sister. The first was, of course, the run-of-the-mill violent removal of the slug from inside her. The second was to essentially cook the girl alive until the slug's ability to hold back the tide with its ADAM production was overwhelmed and the slug died from the intense heat. The girl would die almost immediately after the slug's demise, having had felt every second of her hellish torture of being unable to die even though she was being cooked like a piece of meat.

Meanwhile, if she was extracted from her Hidey Hole, then she faced almost certain death at the hands of these two sick demented individuals. I did not know what shithole these two rats had crawled out of where it was acceptable to heartlessly cook a girl that was no more than eight years old alive, but I was going to ensure that Rapture was where they were going to be exterminated like the filthy rodents that they were.

Finally, I arrived at the Toy Department. The department was darker than the others that I had just bulldozed through. The numerous display racks of all manner of children's toys had been seemingly untouched by the splicers as they were still fully stocked. Directly in front of me was the second floor platform. In the middle of the platform, I saw the pair standing in front of the Little Sister Vent. The intense heat was causing the metal structure to glow as the metal skin threatened to melt. Elizabeth was still wearing what she had been the last time that I had seen her but now the fabric of both her shirt and skirt was torn, her red ribbon was untied, and her bird pendent was gone. I saw Comstock aggressively trying to pull Sally out of the glowing vent even as the terrified child begged him to stop.

The private investigator was wearing a blue and black buttoned vest over a white collared shirt that had its long sleeves rolled back until they were equal with the sleeves of the short sleeve vest. The shirt's cuffs had been folded backwards so that they went over the top of the vest's sleeves. A short distance away from the backwards cuffs were two small brown leather adjustable straps that were on either side of each other on both arms. Around his neck was a red ascot tie that had was tucked under the blue and black vest. Meanwhile, he was wearing a pair of dark pants that were secured with a brown belt around his waist where the hem of his shirt was tucked into his pants. His white and black pointed shoes were rather fancy-looking and seemed somewhat out of place on the man's otherwise roughened appearance.

There was something off about his face. While his attire and even his voice suggested a much younger man in his thirties, his face suggested a much older man in his sixties or seventies. His hair was white and thin like that of an elderly man. Wrinkles were visible along his brow. The skin around his cheekbones and recesses was beginning to droop and thus highlighted the underlining bone structure.

As with Elizabeth, I got the impression that Comstock did not belong in Rapture or, for that matter, in our world at all. Killing them both would be doing my world a favor. Every action of the two had caused far-reaching ripple effects of absolutely nothing but hardship and sorrow. Their meddling ended here.

Somehow remaining oblivious to my overt charge towards them, the two continued to try to get Sally out of the vent. Comstock finally managed to grab her and hauled her partially out of the vent. He suddenly paused as he saw her appearance. My rage spiraled even more out of control when I saw the look of revulsion on his face.

How dare he look at her like she was some kind of freak?! Given that she had been isolated at the bottom of the trench near Rapture, she was in remarkably good health. Her black dress with a red ribbon around her waist and red buttons was in good condition as the only noticeable damage was the large section that was missing on the right shoulder area. Her face, arms, legs, and feet were the cleanest that I had ever seen second only to Eleanor. Even her blonde hair was still somewhat neatly trimmed.

The only issues that I saw were the patches of discoloration on her face caused by the unusually pronounced veins that were a darker grey color compared to the frost grey color of her skin and the milky white appearance of her eyes. Both were symptoms of ADAM starvation in a Little Sister. Like splicers, Little Sisters went through ADAM withdraw if she was unable to feed regularly.

The milky white appearance of her eyes was due to the fact that the bioluminescence cells, which were the source of their trademark yellow glow, cost the slug inside of the girl a lot of energy to maintain as it was having to replace the short-lived unstable stem cell versions of the native cells that had once been there at a greater rate than the other cells that it produced to take the place of the native cells that had been killed.

Sally was only in the beginning stages of ADAM starvation. She just needed to be returned to the rest of Rapture. I had yet to come across any signs of another Gatherer in the building so it was more than likely that Ryan's men had simply missed Sally in their sweep of the ducts to relocate the present Little Sisters to the rest of Rapture before they had signed off on the building being cleared for being sent to the bottom as a prison. Or, Cohen might have gotten a cheap laugh out of sending a defenseless Little Sister to a place like this. Either way, the poor girl had been all alone in a makeshift prison filled with ADAM-crazed denizens who, hopefully by some miracle, only wanted the ADAM slug inside of her and not her. Once she had been returned to Rapture, given a Protector, and then had gotten back into eating regularly again, she would be just fine.

As I came up from behind them, Comstock once again tried to pull her out of the vent, this time very aggressively. Sally saw me coming to her aid and cried out to me, "Help! Mister Bubbles!"

Just as I was about to strike the first blow, Elizabeth cried out, "Mister DeWitt!" Comstock turned just in time to see the whirling tip of my drill approaching his face. Somehow, the elderly-looking man managed to sidestep me to the right seconds before I could send my tool straight into his skull. Instead, my drill penetrated deeply into the large, round, concrete structure into which the Little Sister Vent was mounted as I missed the girl's sanctuary about a foot off to the right.

I tried to remove my drill but found that I was stuck. Irritated, I let out a rumbling roar and then forcibly ripped my industrial-grade tool from the wall, leaving a large round hole. As I twisted my torso to the right while freeing my drill from the wall, I succeeded in collecting three large chunks of concrete in the sharp grooves of its bit. Slinging my freed drill to the right in a straight line, I was able to dislodge the chunks in a way that caused them to fly through the air and hit Comstock.

The first piece hit him in the right side of his skull. The second hit him in the right side of his neck. Finally, the third struck him in the right shoulder blade. However, to my shock, there was no sound of breaking bone. Instead, there was a strange noise that vaguely sounded like a barrier being shattered. I observed a strange yellow light manifest around the man to form a bubble-like shape.

As I watched, cracks appeared in the surface of the bubble around Comstock's face and seconds later, the pieces fell to the ground like a windowpane that had been shattered. Whatever I had just witnessed clearly alarmed the strange-looking man because he went on the defensive by first blasting me with a shot of Shock Jockey, a far weaker form of the overpowered Electro Bolt Home Defense Plasmid, and then retreating towards the row of display racks.

I growled in slight discomfort as the purple arcs of electricity danced around my body while I was rendered immobile. The Plasmid's effects were short-lived and I chased after the man within five seconds after he had used it on me. When I caught up to him, he was trying to circle back around to Sally. With my body consumed by the fury of my Protector Instincts, I failed to feel the impacts of the hail of .45 ACP rounds coming from his rather ornate Thompson Submachine Gun.

My First Aid Reserve Tank negated the effects of the rounds and I charged towards him intent on sending the tip of my drill straight into the center of his forehead. However, seconds before I could strike, what I had seen moments earlier with the yellow bubble happened once again except, this time, it was in reverse. The bubble reformed around him and when I swung my drill into his head, it was like I was hitting the bubble rather than him. Cracks appeared in its surface and Comstock even recoiled as if I had hit him, but I failed to inflict any physical damage upon him.

An energy shield? Was that even possible? It must have been because I had just seen one in action. I knew next to nothing about physics but, if there was one thing that my blue collar work in the Navy had taught me, it was that stored energy, such as in a 12 volt battery, could not last forever. All I had to do was drain the shield's energy and then I could break this coward's neck without a second thought.

Giving off another guttural roar, I revved up my drill. The man attempted to retreat away from me but, with the area filled with the thunderous report of my drill's combustion engine, I thrust its spinning head into the private investigator's shield around his chest area. The sound of glass crunching and cracking joined the report of my tool as more and more cracks appeared in his shield.

He would have been dead long before the shield finally submitted and deactivated about five seconds later. After all, we had different defensive approaches. Comstock used a shield that could negate anything thrown at it as long as it had energy but, underneath, he had no armor or any Gene Tonics to reduce the physical damage that he received. Meanwhile, I, being an Alpha Series Big Daddy purposely designed to be able to take a heavy beating, had no shield but, instead, had thick, heavy copper armor over my vital areas and had Gene Tonics spliced that reduced the physical damage that I received in the areas of thinner, less effective leather and canvas armor.

The second that Comstock's shield was gone, my drill's tip penetrated deep into his chest. The sounds of snapping bone and ripping soft tissue filled the air as my powerful drill easily tore away the central section of the man's vest and shirt to leave a ragged hole in his attire and then bored into the underlying body. He screamed in pure agony as steady, circular spurts of blood erupted out of the bore hole to coat my armored form, particularly my segmented eye which entertained me slightly because I was able to watch the beads of blood slide down its surface.

However, just before the final blow could be struck, I noticed that he glanced off to his left and motioned by nodding with his chin. Concerned, I powered down my drill and ripped it out of the man's body. I turned my entire body to face in the direction that he had motioned and what I saw there would haunt me for the rest of my life. Elizabeth raised her right arm up and then motioned towards a seemingly empty space on top of one of the round display platforms for the floor beneath us. I was confused until, seemingly materializing out of thin air, a large humanoid automaton appeared standing upright.

The automaton was in the likeness of the first president of the United States of America, George Washington. On its back where the spine would have been with a person, the machine had large metal gears. Two American flags were flying from a mount on either side of the gears. Two red lights mounted on the end of long metal poles protruded from the machine's back as well. The porcelain face of George Washington was cracked and weathered. However, I noticed that the automaton was shimmering and had a faint discoloration as if it was out of an old black and white cinematic film that was out of focus.

What was this? Elizabeth had caused this thing to appear out of thin air. How? What were these two individuals and what had I gotten myself into? Though our link, Eleanor quickly informed me, "_Don't worry, Daddy. They are both mortal but not from our world. Elizabeth was somehow physically divided between two worlds by her pinky finger. As such, she is able to bring something like that automaton into our world because she is in a state of quantum superposition. She is a fluke of physics, Daddy. She is nothing more than a human being that is spread across time and space by a physics loophole. She can die just like everyone else._"

The automaton turned and faced me. In its grasp, I saw an old crank action Gatling Machine Gun. Wherever they were from, their world was somehow as advanced as our own but, at the same time, was also less advanced than ours. The Gatling Gun was rendered obsolete by machine guns like the M1919 Browning Machine Gun decades ago in our world.

I roared as I was suddenly engulfed by genetic flames. The coward Comstock must have hit me with Devil's Kiss while my back was turned. At the same time, the automaton jumped from the platform to the edge of our platform and then began to charge towards me as it fired its Gatling Gun. From behind me, Comstock began to unleash a hail of shotgun rounds into my metal lungs and reserve tanks at point blank range.

Though the pain was numbed by the immense amount of rage pumping through me, I could still feel the rounds that were tearing into my body from all sides while the dying genetic flames continued to eat away at me. I went to charge at the automaton, but I was suddenly rendered immobile by another blast of Shock Jockey from Comstock. Unable to move, I was powerless to stop the hail of bullets from ripping into my body.

My chances of surviving the confrontation became even more negative when I heard the dull thud sound that indicated that my First Aid Reserve Tank had been either depleted or rendered inoperable by Comstock's shotgun blasts. I berated myself for falling for the bitch's trick. I had been the one that the lying bitch had led into a trap. I was at the bottom of an ocean trench in a decrepit department store turned into a prison for spliced up killers with an inoperable First Aid Reserve Tank and was fighting an individual with an energy shield, an individual that could materialize objects from across multiple worlds, and the Gatling Gun-armed George Washington automaton that the latter had materialized to help ensure my demise.

Sensing my plight, Eleanor screamed in pure terror, "_Daddy!_"

Meanwhile, Sally, seeing her Protector dying, screamed in terror, "Mister Bubbles!"

Their screams sent my Protector Instincts into uncharted territory. Suddenly, the rage was gone. Instead, I felt very calm but my thoughts were gone. The monster was in complete control and I was acting on pure instinct. Indifferent to both the blood now squirting onto the interior surface of my segmented eye and the world around me in general, I calmly charged towards the automaton through its hail of gunfire. Upon reaching it, I flanked around behind it to gain access to its comically vulnerable internal mechanisms.

_Destroy_. I grabbed ahold of the large, circular, toothed gear protruding from its mechanisms in a vice-like grip with my gauntlet-encased left hand. Thoughtlessly, I ripped the gear out of its slot and then thrust my drill straight through the automaton's chest cavity. Able to access one-hundred percent of my muscular potential, my thrust was powerful enough to send my drill all the way through the machine. I examined the tip of my drill where it was protruding from the front of the automaton by a good seven inches with mild interest for a moment. Then, I placed my right boot-encased foot into the paperweight's back and used it for leverage while I violently ripped my tool back out of the presidential impersonator.

Looking back towards the male rat that I had to exterminate, I noticed that his female companion was using the overhead Jet Postal lines to circle overhead to be able to materialize more aid to the male wherever he asked.

_Take away advantage_. I took aim and then threw the circular gear that was still in my grasp. My aim was dead on and the gear struck the large blue nutcracker soldier doll that was in front of the bottom floor staircase landing. A loud cracking sound could be heard as the concrete figure collapsed towards the staircase, which sent it right into the Jet Postal line. In a loud crash, the heavy figure demolished the section of the line that was in its path before crashing to the landing of the staircase in a cloud of dust.

The bitch, clearly surprised, released her grip on her Air Grabber. She fell from the line and landed hard at the top of one of the flights of stairs. The disorientated liar began to tumble down the steps. Some freak of physics she may have been, but her weak physical body would need approximately one to two minutes to fully recover from the harsh landing.

_Advantage neutralized_. _Kill later_. I turned my attention to the male rodent that had touched the precious Little Sister with his disgusting, grubby paws. The defiler was over where he had been towards the far left corner of the landing. The varmint had stopped firing his magnum revolver and was looking in the direction of his companion. He even appeared to be calling out in concern for the bitch's welfare. How touching.

_Kill! _With my drill revved up, I charged towards the rat while letting out a loud guttural roar. When I reached him, I body slammed the coward at full speed. My assault broke his shield. So much for the shield having an advantage over my armor. I firmly grabbed ahold of the top of his skull with my massive left hand and then lifted him off the ground. Wheeling around, I threw the defiler clear across the room like a baseball. Comstock cried out in both shock and fright before smashing into a display shelf.

The impact sent the display tumbling towards the nearby staircase but it stopped just as it reached the first step, effectively blocking off the left path down to the lower floor. Though clearly in pain, Comstock recovered and darted towards the back wall where there was an escape route while firing his magnum revolver at me.

_Prevent escape_. Letting out a guttural roar, I charged at the fleeing coward. My speed was superior to his and, just before he could pass through the double doors, I body slammed him like a football player. The force of our collision sent Comstock flying into the doors. The two objects were compromised by the impact and collapsed in their housings, effectively blocking off access to the area beyond.

Without a functioning First Aid Reserve Tank, I could not let up on my assault and give the coward's shield time to recharge. As the saying went, the best defense is an overwhelming offense. I thrust my drill at the rat's head where he was recovering up against the compromised doors. However, Comstock recovered and rolled to avoid my attack. Instead, my drill penetrated the thin material of the left door.

In the brief instant that I was trapped, Comstock stood and then sliced into my left arm with a swipe of the Air Grabber secured over his left hand. The crudely made toy's hooked blades became snagged in the thick canvas hide of my left arm. I mentally laughed as the child abuser tried to yank his tool free only to fail miserably. I quickly bent my left arm and then sent my elbow straight into the trapped rat's nose. My blow broke Comstock's nose and the force of the strike sent the alcoholic flying backwards with a blood trail coming from his broken nose. I had helped him though in the name of good sportsmanship. His tool was freed from my arm.

I ripped my drill free from the door, which left a large hole in the bottom left corner of its frame, and then stomped towards the downed rodent. Before he could recover, I had reached him, grabbed ahold of his left ankle with my left hand, and then threw him across the room like a throwing disk. As the defiler flew through the air, I saw his revolver fly off to a faraway place in the room. Comstock landed hard near the right front corner near the second staircase.

_Enough games old man. Finish the threat off. _Letting out a guttural roar, I loudly charged towards the threat to Sally, shaking the floor with every footstep. Comstock recovered and stood just as he was within the striking distance of my drill. He swung his left arm at me with the Air Grabber in his grasp. Mentally sighing in disappointment, I reached out and firmly grabbed his left wrist with my gloved left hand.

I applied pressure and the child abuser cried out in agony as he dropped the toy. When the nuisance remained attached to the private investigator's arm by the strap, I released my grip on his wrist and then grabbed the piece of junk. I ripped it off the defiler's arm and then tossed it off to my left. When I did, I noticed the shotgun lying on the floor nearby.

I retreated back a short distance and then rushed forward. As I reached the man again, I reached up and firmly grabbed his right shoulder with my massive left hand. Then, I leaned back before thrusting my heavy copper face violently into the rat's skull. The sound of snapping bone filled the air as the rat fell backwards and landed hard on his back. My brutal headbutt had cracked open Comstock's forehead and blood was beginning to cascade down the sides of his face.

Now all that was left was to exterminate the pest. I stomped down on his chest with my weighted right boot when he tried to crawl away. With my foot holding the coward in place, I revved up my drill and then lowered its spinning razor sharp point down to bore into the coward's weakened skull. The child abuser raised his left hand up instinctively to protect his face while I also felt him press his right foot into my heavy frame to try to push me away.

The animal squealed in pain as my drill's point began to bore straight through its grubby little paw. Before I could bore through the obstacle and finish the defiler off, he leaned back and began to frantically claw at the tiled floor with his right hand as he tried to locate the shotgun. I mentally laughed at his frantic search for a moment, but then, to my surprise, he actually managed to grab ahold of the close quarters powerhouse.

Before I could stomp down on my victim's right hand, he relocated his fingers around the shotgun's grip, raised it up, aimed it at my chest, and discharged a round. The buckshot peppered my form and, due to the close proximity of the shot, my body was forced backwards by the raw energy unleashed into me. I did not go very far and I quickly recovered. However, as I turned back to continue my victim's execution, I found him drinking a bottle of Drinkable EVE, which I vaguely recalled being originally called Salts for some reason.

_Enough! This has gone on too long! Kill! _I gave off a deafening roar and then charged at Comstock to put an end to our death match. I had promised Eleanor that I would take her out to dance during the New Year's Eve celebrations and these two rats were making killing them far too complicated and time consuming.

However, as I neared the coward, he blasted me with a shot of Shock Jockey from his badly mangled left hand. I gave off an ear-shattering roar in irritation as I was rendered immobile while the purple arcs of electricity danced around my frame. Taking advantage of my vulnerability, the defiler rushed forward with his shotgun in his grasp. I had just broken free from the Plasmid's effects when the gambler placed the shotgun's muzzle against the surface of the center segment of my eye and then discharged a final round.

My eye's protective glass hide was shattered and compromised by the shotgun's pointblank discharge and I fell backwards. I gave off a loud grunt of discomfort as I landed harshly on my left side. Luckily, the glass of an Alpha Series Big Daddy's eye was unusually thick to be able to withstand the extreme pressure of the ocean's depths that we regularly endured. As such, the lethality of the shotgun's round had been all but nullified by the glass hide of my eye absorbing most of the buckshot and accompanying raw energy. The only damage that I had suffered was minor shrapnel cuts and gunpowder burns.

_Still in one piece. Get up old man. Defend Little Sister_. However, when I tried to get back up, I found that I was unable to move. Some unseen force was preventing me from finishing off the rat. I could feel it upon my body like an invisible blanket made of immensely heavy material. The same force appeared to also be silencing my deafening roars of confusion and rage because I could hear the pair returning to the Little Sister Vent. Unable to move, I was powerless to do anything except listen as the entire event unfolded.

Elizabeth cried out, "Mr. DeWitt, the girl!"

Comstock yelled, "Sally!"

Moments later, Sally cried, "No! No!"

Elizabeth said with a sympathetic tone, "Mr. DeWitt."

However, Comstock had become consumed by getting the poor girl out of the Vent. He ignored Elizabeth as he said, "It's okay…see…it's Sarah…she's come to see you…we're going home. You want to go home?" There was a pause. Then, I heard him grunt while Sally screamed in terror. No! They were going to kill her! Why could I not get up? If I could just get up, I would kill them like the disgusting rats that they were! Sally!

The hurt, frightened child struggled and Comstock begged, "No. No. Please no. Just please let me take you home." However, something happened seconds later. Comstock suddenly stopped talking and even stopped trying to get Sally out of the vent. What was going on? Did something happen to Comstock? My confusion deepened when Comstock started muttering to himself as if he was remembering something.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth said, "Let her go!"

Comstock replied, "No she's mine!"

There was another pause. Then, I heard a body hit the floor. However, it was too heavy to have been Sally or Elizabeth. It was Comstock? Why? What happened? Comstock, sounding as if he was in a daze, muttered, "I remember…all of it…the poor child."

Elizabeth then shot back, "She wasn't yours! Comstock! I wasn't!"

I felt like a load of bricks had been dropped on top of my head. This truly had been a trap for Comstock. That meant that Elizabeth had been telling the truth. Why had she hurt Sally then? Was she so consumed by her desire to kill Comstock that she had been willing to harm the innocent child despite giving us her word to the contrary? In front of a Big Daddy no less? Surely, she did not believe that she could hurt the Little Sister and then just walk away. If she did, then this had been a trap for her as well.

Comstock muttered, "No…no…no…" I heard the rat get to his feet before he continued, "This isn't right…"

Elizabeth, meanwhile, continued her assault, "The guilt was too much…"

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, I heard a new voice. It was a male voice that had an intelligent, charismatic yet indifferent air to it. The man said, "So you turned to us to handle your problem."

Moments later, there was a second new voice that nearly identical to the first except it was a woman. The woman said, "To provide a place to go so you could forget."

After a brief pause, the man said, "Where there never was an Anna in the first place."

There was another pause and then the woman asked the man, "Comstock never was one to own up to his errors was he brother?"

The brother replied, "Never was comfortable with the choices that he made."

Now, the siblings were clearly taunting the poor man because the sister said, "Always claiming another's life for his own."

Meanwhile, as inexplicably as it had manifested, the unseen force afflicting me was suddenly gone. Sally had not made any noise since her last scream. I had to assume that she had been harvested, or worse, had fled back into the molten ducts of the network where she would slowly be cooked to death. The entire situation had degraded beyond the point of being fixed. All that was left now was to avenge the fallen princess by slaughtering her murderers.

Unchained, I began to get to my feet. The rage inside of me had not dissipated. If anything, it had only increased because of my failure to save my master's sister. The impulsive drive to kill the filthy little rats that had attacked the innocent child was still in overdrive. It was still the monster that was in control, not the man. In the monster's eyes, all the parties were responsible for the blasphemous attack on the princess. They all deserved to die.

_Kill! _

As I moved towards the rats, I heard Comstock address Elizabeth, "Elizabeth…darling child…I'm so sorry." Sorry?! The memory of Sally's agonized screams while she was being cooked alive filled my mind. Sorry?! My mind was too consumed by my Protector Instincts to discern that Comstock was, of course, referring to his past misdeeds and not the fact that he had just taken part in the torture of an innocent child.

My master's command echoed through my mind over and over like a broken record, "Kill them Daddy! Kill them all!" I let out a guttural roar and then charged forward with my bloodied industrial grade drill revved up. These rats had taken up enough of my time. I had to make myself presentable for my daughter in time to take her out to celebrate New Year's Eve and, thanks to these rodents, I only had a few hours left to do so.

As I rounded the corner of the round structure that the Little Sister Vent was mounted into, I heard Elizabeth reply coldly, "No, you're not…" I found Comstock before Elizabeth trying to gain her forgiveness. I saw no trace of the siblings but I would deal with them in due time. I mentally yelled in frustration.

_So many to kill. So little time_.

Seconds before I thrust my whirling drill into Comstock's back, Elizabeth finished with an ice cold tone, "…but you're about to be." Before he could react, I sent my drill's razor sharp tip into the rat's back. The sound of snapping bone and ripping soft tissue filled the air along with large amounts of blood as I bored straight through the rodent's spine and rib cage, utterly destroying its vital organs, before finally powering down my drill as its tip exited out of the rat's chest.

My strike was so sudden and violent that Comstock was in shock. Elizabeth's face and shirt were covered by her kidnapper's blood. However, she calmly accepted the liquid as if Comstock's spilled lifeblood was a badge of honor. She sneered at the impaled defiler with an expression of pure, sadistic pleasure and satisfaction as he comically looked down at the protruding tip of my drill as if to confirm what had happened. Only the pressure of my drill was keeping Comstock alive.

_Kill them Daddy!_

I reversed the direction of my drill and then revved it up once more. Comstock screamed in agony as I retracted my drill completely, thus releasing the pressure. I circled around to the right to line up my Drill Dash on the last rat that had to be exterminated. In one final act of life, the coward looked at the woman whose life he had ruined. Then, dead before he hit the floor, the monster fell forward to land prostrate at Elizabeth's feet.

_Kill them all! _

I let out a primal roar of fury and then revved up my drill. Tragically, Elizabeth was shocked by my aggressive demeanor. The woman had actually thought that I would let someone who had hurt a Little Sister just walk away. She had finally killed Comstock, but, in doing so, she had been consumed by her obsession and had become the very thing that she had hated so passionately: a monster that hurt innocent children. Too late, she realized that she had dragged herself to the edge of the abyss right along with Comstock.

She raised her hands up as she begged, "No! St…stay back!"

I tried to stop because she had not revealed how we could escape. However, Eleanor screamed through our link, "_Bad lady__ kill Sally! Kill her Daddy!_" Obeying my daughter, I charged forward and impaled the brunette in her thin midsection with my bloodied drill. My blood lust screamed for further satisfaction. With Elizabeth still impaled by my drill, I continued my charge.

The floor beneath my feet shook as I rushed towards the only remaining flight of intact stairs. Upon rushing down them, the structure collapsed and we began to fall towards the bottom floor. I continued my charge and, instead of joining the falling staircase when it hit the ground, we ended up on the platform-like area on the far right side of the department.

Sally's screams filled my mind once again and I felt wet drops flowing down the cheeks of my human face. I was confused because blood had never come out of the ducts in the corner of my human eyes before. However, I discovered that it was not blood when one of the drops managed to enter my mouth and, instead of the taste of iron, the strange liquid tasted salty. What did the human body produce that was wet and salty and exited through the ducts around the eyes?

I would solve that mystery later. I launched Elizabeth off my drill and she collided back-first with the wall in front of me. To her credit, the woman proved to be unnaturally tough as she raised her hands up once again and said something even though there was a gaping hole in her midsection. Her words were inaudible to me. All I could hear were Sally's wails of agony and her crying out, "Help! Mister Bubbles!"

_Fucking abomination! _

_Not even worthy enough to look at her! _

_Little Sisters are precious angels! _

_Who the fuck do you think you are?! _

I revved up my drill and then charged forward. My visual perception degraded into only sporadic flashes of what was in front of me as visions of Sally screaming while fire engulfed her tiny fragile body and, worse, Eleanor being burned alive as well tormented me while their screams deafened me.

_What if Eleanor had come with me? _

I collided with Elizabeth. My violent charge slammed her back up against the wall. She continued to say things but I could not hear what they were. This woman had come to Rapture on a personal vendetta. Had won over my Eleanor only to betray her trust in the most heartless manner possible other than killing me. Had used one of Eleanor's sisters as bait. Had then convinced her victim to cook said sister alive inside the one place in Rapture that the girl could truly feel safe. For all I knew, had killed that innocent child in the process of trapping a man who was some alternate version of the man who had actually been the reason for her father's death in whatever shithole of a world they were from.

If Eleanor had come with me, this woman would have likely caused her death as well. My Eleanor! This bitch had almost killed my Eleanor; my best friend, my daughter, the only spark of love and hope in my life!

_Die you heartless bitch! _

With one mighty swing of my drill, I sent the woman through the wall. Elizabeth continued flying backwards until she hit reinforced concrete. Her body became still and the light was gone from her open eyes. Examining her form, I saw that there was a bloodied piece of steel rebar protruding from her chest where her heart was located. I guess she actually did have a heart all along.

Picking up a nearby piece of debris, I placed it in front of the hole in the wall and sealed it. I mentally laughed as a thought occurred to me. _There was a hole here. It's gone now_. Having had my fill of violence and blood for one evening, I turned and began to try to find a way back up to the upper floor. The rage inside of my mind subsided as my Protector Instincts deactivated. The area in front of me became bathed in the usual golden orange light of my glowing eye.

My rational thoughts returned as the monster was put back in his cage. As the full extent of my actions hit home, I was unable to continue forward and collapsed onto my hand, drill, and knees. More of that strange salty liquid from earlier seeped out of the ducts around my human eyes while my body began to shake involuntarily. It became hard to breathe as I was inexplicably seized by a coughing fit.

Through our link, I begged my daughter, "_Eleanor…I…I'm so sorry…I…I tried…forgive me please! Daddy tried…he did…please…forgive me! All of this…for nothing…_"

Before Eleanor could say anything, I heard the brother say, "'For nothing,' he says."

Shocked, I looked up to see the sibling standing before me. My vision was still blurred due to the strange condition that had seized me seconds prior. I could only make out the silhouettes of the two as they stood next to each other.

The sister said, "How pessimistic."

The brother taunted his sibling, "Says the fatalist."

The sister retorted, "Given his reputation, I had expected him to be like you."

He asked, "How so?"

She explained, "You don't know when to stop trying to fix things."

Her brother corrected her, "I do know when to stop, dear sister. He does not."

She stated, "I do find his attachment and devotion to Eleanor inspiring."

He replied, "I must say that this new side of you is refreshing."

She countered, "Nonsense, dear brother. I find it inspiring because of what they are about to go through."

He said, "Ah, and now we have come full circle."

The sister added, "The reason why we are here."

The brother said, "It is only fair. He did hold up his end of the deal."

The sister said, "Pity that she had to pay with her life."

He consoled her, "Don't grieve, dear sister. She is in a better place."

She commented, "For Eleanor's and his sake, let's hope she stays there this time."

The brother admitted, "I have high hopes for these two."

His sister remarked, "It would be wrong of me to try to disillusion you, my naïve brother."

He boasted, "I wager that they will make it this time."

The sister replied, "Since you are so eager to embarrass yourself, I accept."

Her brother said, "We shall watch then."

She finished, "Indeed."

There was a sudden flash of light. When my vision finally returned and cleared, the pair were gone. However, where they had been standing, I saw a neatly folded blueprint with a strange yellow key sitting on top of it. I stood and then walked over to the items.

Upon examining the key, I found that it was a genetically encoded key. The blueprints were very technical and there were hand-written notes in the margins. However, I immediately recognized the building-sized, flying saucer-shaped bathysphere that had a large glass windowed tower protruding from the center and octopus-like arms extending out from the central part of the vessel that had the underwater equivalent of booster rocket engines attached to their ends. There was no mistaking the identity of the behemoth: Augustus Sinclair's Lifeboat.

My mind become numb as I struggled to grasp the extent of our good fortune. Our payment had been the blueprints and ignition key for the one vessel in all of Rapture that could safely transport not only Eleanor and myself out of the dying city, but all the remaining Alpha Series Big Daddies, their Little Sisters, all the other Little Sisters, Tenenbaum and her rescued Little Sisters, and anyone that was still sane enough to want to get the hell out of the Neverland of madmen called Rapture.

This was perfect. Sinclair was a shrewd business man that had sold me out but he would be more than willing to help get his baby back from Sofia Lamb. She had seized control of Persephone and the docked Lifeboat. Knowing the man as I did, Sinclair would jump on the opportunity to "stick it to" Sofia. With the assistance of my Alpha Series brethren, we could retake Persephone and claim the Lifeboat. After that, not even Andrew Ryan could stop us from escaping. Hell, I would even offer him and Sofia Lamb a spot on the one-way trip out of the city as my way of making nice. Atlas/Fontaine wanted the city so badly? He could have it.

Eleanor stated, "_We can save everyone…yay Daddy! You're a hero!_"

I laughed sadly before I replied, "_No, kid…I just brutally killed two people while failing to save an innocent child. Your old man is not a hero…he is a monster."_

She dismissed my remark and assured me, "_Nonsense, Daddy...you are a hero! You only kill bad people that deserve it._"

Shocked, I lectured her, "_Eleanor, get thoughts like that out of your head right now! Killing is never right…no matter how pure the intention may be. Killing is killing, plain and_ _simple._"

She asked, "_So...if it is wrong...why do you do it?_"

I explained, "_I only kill because I want to protect you from people that would kill you if I did not stop them. I don't want anything to happen to you. _I love you Eleanor and I always will._..which is why I do the things that I do._"

Eleanor was silent for a moment. Then, she asked with a strange tone that I had never heard her use before, "_You…love…me_?"

Confused, I replied, "_Of course I do kid…what…what's wrong? Are you alright? Do you feel sick?_"

She assured me, "_No…no…I'm alright…_" Then, she declared, "_I love you too Daddy! I've been wanting to tell you that for so long. I love you a lot. A real_ _lot._"

She asked, "_Is that okay? That I love you so much?_"

Confused as to why she would ask if it was wrong for a Little Sister to love her Alpha Series Big Daddy Protector, I replied, "_Of course, why wouldn't it be, kid? It is perfectly natural for two people like us to love each other. Otherwise, there wouldn't be any point for us to be together._"

Sounding as if a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders, Eleanor said, "_I'm so glad to hear you say that, Daddy. I love you so much…I…I honestly don't know what I would do if you were gone…"_

I assured her, "_I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon, kid. Listen, I'm headed back. I need to fix my suit but I should be back in Rapture in time to take you out to dance before the clock hits New Year._"

Eleanor asked, "_Oh, right…dancing. Actually, Daddy, can we celebrate New Year's Eve… alone?_"

Navigating the rubble strewn department, I replied, "_Sure…if that is what you want. Are you hungry?_"

Eleanor said, "_Well…maybe a little…are you able to fight after that?_"

The fight against Comstock and Elizabeth had taken a brutal toll, I could not deny that. My suit had been severely damaged and my body itself had taken a heavy beating. I would not be able to do very well in a fight until I could get patched up at Point Prometheus. Ryan had seized Fontaine Futuristics so now I had to go all the way to the Ryan Industries-owned alternative. Alpha Series Big Daddies were able to gain access to the old Fontaine building, hence why we used it to store our more valuable assets such as my collection of currency because no one else could get into the building. However, we now had to go to Point Prometheus for everything else.

Being New Year's Eve, there would be no one there to patch me up. I would be on my own until tomorrow morning. However, the likelihood of being attacked by anyone that was sober enough to be a threat, let alone ambushed by an organized Splicer Gang, was so remote that I honestly did not think that it was worth forgoing a quick gathering session to hold Eleanor over until morning. The entire city was going to be blind drunk except for the Protectors and Gatherers. What could possibly happen?

I replied, "_To be honest, I'm a little messed up, kid. Still, I should be fine if we just do a quick food run. Then, we can celebrate the New Year proper._"

Eleanor chirped, "_I promise I'll be quick, Daddy. Hurry back…I have a surprise for you._"

I smiled beneath my armored face as I replied, "_I can't wait to see what it is. Stay where you are, I'll be there as soon as I can._"

My daughter said, "_Okay Daddy. I'll stay right here for you._"

By then, I had found a way back up to the second floor. I felt my heart fall when I failed to find any trace of Sally. She was likely dead, cooked to death inside the vent network. If she was still alive, there was nothing that I could do. She was a Mass Production Model. They did not respond to us like they did the Tin Men. In a desperate enough situation, they would call out to us to protect them but we did not have the awful stench of the Tin Men so they would not follow us or exit the vent if we called for them with our fists.

I had done everything that I could have done for her in my current condition. After I got patched up and the city was somewhat back to normal tomorrow, I would seek out Tenenbaum and then return for her. If she was still alive, I would rescue her and take her to the surface with us when we escaped in Sinclair's Lifeboat.

I suddenly heard approaching splicers. The sounds of battle had ceased and the scavengers were coming to pick through the remains. I quickly vacated the area and began to find parts to repair my suit. Eleanor was waiting for me and I would hate to begin 1959 on a bad note by not getting back to her before the clock hit midnight. Compared to the events that had already happened, the rest of the evening was surely going to be rather uneventful as Eleanor and I welcomed in the New Year together.


	12. Chapter 12: The Bogeyman

Ch. 12: The Bogeyman

A.N.:

Happy Holidays everyone!

I know this chapter is shorter than normal but I am trying to update more often. While it does not move the story forward that much, it sets up the rest of the story in terms of how far Topside is willing, and is, going to go in order to protect Eleanor.

Anyway,

I want to thank everyone for the support that this story has gotten. I have honestly been shocked that people are still interested in a BioShock 2 story even with how old it is and with the new addition of Infinite to the series.

Oh, and my game disc finally crapped out on me, I bought it on the release day for the game so it was old, so I had to do this chapter from memory. The dialogue with Grace is probably wrong. I should have a replacement by the next chapter.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated but don't feel pressured if you don't want to.

* * *

I mentally sighed. For me, 1959 never came. Of all the times to have let my guard down, it had been the night that Sofia had sought out Eleanor. I still had no idea how she found us. We did not adhere to a schedule or assigned routes. Obviously she had informants in the city, but I had been certain that I had not been followed. I could chalk it up to "a mother's intuition", but as with the good doctor herself, I was not fool enough to give credit to such things. However, I did not like the alternative.

Had someone sold me out? It was a very short list of individuals that even knew where I was at the time and they were all within my "inner" circle. I brushed off this line of questioning. The most likely explanation was that Sofia had, like us, taken advantage of the chaotic conditions of Rapture on New Year's Eve. Ryan's private security teams were overwhelmed and she had been able to send large numbers of her flock into the city to hunt us down.

Regardless, I had screwed up as horribly as I could have possibly screwed up. The only thing that I cared about was to protect the one person that found it in her heart to love a monster like me and I could not even do that right. I had to make this right. I had been given a second chance and I would be damned before I failed this time.

"Here's the angel." Eleanor's cry of excitement ripped me from my thoughts. Immediately pushing all of my selfish concerns aside and ignoring the numb weakness that was racking my body, I focused on my sole purpose in life. As I studied our surroundings, I smirked beneath my emotionless face. This was as perfect of a defensive position as one would find in Rapture.

We were beside the strange structure just beyond the entrance to the area. The structure provided cover from incoming attacks from the far left corner of the diner. The diner itself was approximately ten yards from our position. The building dominated the area and, thanks to the Splicers making its rooftop accessible, would be a perfect location for Alpha to provide suppressive fire.

Directly in front of us was the street that we had gone down when I had been drawn by the Little Sister's pheromones. The submerged section of the street where the pipe had been compromised would provide an effective barrier as I electrified the water with blasts of Electro Bolt. The Splicers would be forced to approach us from around the sides of the diner and, due to the flooded section of the street on the right, one of their routes was a death trap. There was a section of spilled oil down the left street as well. Indeed, this position was a Protector's dream.

I grunted at Alpha, "See if you can find a good firing position up on top of the diner. If it is too unstable, come back down."

He replied, "You got it, sir."

My old friend began to move towards the ramp on the side of the diner. As he moved, I noticed that his heavy footsteps were muted to the point that they were almost undetectable. He must have spliced Wrench Lurker, a Gene Tonic that silenced the wielder's footsteps and also provided a boost in damage to an assailant that was bludgeoned from behind. The only noise that he made as he moved was the ruffling of the fabric of his suit. In my mind, it was yet another example of why the Alpha Series were the ultimate Protectors.

Unlike the Mass Production Models and the new "Big Sister" Protectors, the Alpha Series Big Daddies were designed to be able to adapt to new situations. The lumbering giants fell into the trap of being so specialized that they were extremely vulnerable to the arms race in Rapture. Indeed, they had thicker armor and, in a single strike, could inflict greater damage than us. However, their heavy armor came at a high cost. They could not adapt to new circumstances, and that aspect made them "dead-ends" in terms of evolution. Meanwhile, those of us in the Alpha Series were the equivalent of a "jack-of-all-trades". Our designs allowed us to have both the sanity and the physical ability to evolve in response to changes in the Splicers. In the game of survival and Rapture, the proficiency with adaption was king.

For example, Subject Alpha had evolved into a marksman that used tactical approaches to problems in order to ensure that he had the advantage in the confrontation. Meanwhile, I had evolved into a close-quarters brawler that, while I did habitually use my surroundings to my advantage, relied less upon tactics and more on speed, aggression, and the protection of my armor and Gene Tonics in confrontations. We did specialize, but we still retained the ability to quickly modify our approaches even in the middle of combat.

The sudden rumble of machine gun fire filled The Drop. I turned my entire body to look up towards the roof of the seemingly abandoned restaurant. Tracer fire lit up the air with its pencil lead-looking particles of light. Meanwhile, I heard the high-pitched report of Alpha's modified Prototype Rivet Gun as he returned fire at the hidden Sentry Turret. Moments later, a loud explosion signaled the destruction of the machine. Subject Alpha appeared at the corner of the building and he reported, "Shame to destroy it. Blasted device could have been useful."

I replied, "No matter. How is it up there?"

He explained, "The only thing holding this building together is the Splicer piss. Still…should hold up long enough for me to lay down cover, sir. Whenever you're ready."

I knew how incredibly unwise this course of action was. My body was on the verge of completely falling apart. I could barely stand let alone fight. If I died, I knew that it would be permanent this time. The thought of leaving my beautiful Eleanor in this godforsaken city nauseated me beyond imagination. Sofia was no fool. She would discover that Eleanor had been the one that had facilitated my revival. Once that witch uncovered her daughter's involvement, it was anyone's guess as to the punishment that she would inflict upon on my master.

I had to ensure that I prevented Sofia from getting the chance to hurt Eleanor. I needed ADAM and I was getting weaker by the moment. Either we did this now or I would soon be just another rotting corpse. Steeling myself, I motioned for the Little Sister to begin. My trusting charge giggled as she stood beside the corpse of a middle-aged woman that was lying a bloodied mass of torn cloth and flesh. Pointing down towards the body, she happily exclaimed in a singsong manner, "Who watches over sleeping angels? I do! I do!"

The young girl had no sooner plunged her Gather Tool into the "angel" before The Drop's Public Announcement System activated. Gracie stated with bitter resentment in her voice, "Family! That monster has taken another one of our children for his own! He would turn her from us just as he did with Eleanor! Show him what happens to the Bogeyman when he steps into our garden!"

The cries of countless Splicers rocked the air as, literally, the entire population of The Drop mobilized to attack our position. It would be the three of us versus hundreds of ADAM-addicted homicidal maniacs. I could hear them rushing towards us as they continued to howl as if they were a pack of rabid dogs as they closed in on their prey. I only vaguely perceived my comrade placing Trap Rivets around the only access route to his position on the roof of the diner as I felt pure hatred and fury rise up from the inner parts of my psyche.

Pure, intense agony racked my entire being as my Protector Instincts hit me like a Bouncer's drill. My eye flickered for a moment as it alternated between bursts of golden yellow and hellish red light. The murderous cries of the bastards that dared to threaten my charge filled my mind where they mixed with the artificial fury of my Protector Instincts as meat and vegetables mixed together in a soup pot.

_ Come on! Wake up you monster! Subject Delta! I know that you can hear me! Wake up!  
_

The monster inside of me began to rile from his slumber and the brief flashes of light being emitted from my eye became only hellish red. I felt a pocket of pressure at the bottom of my throat beginning to build. I could feel Subject Delta breaking free from his cage as a result of my Protector Instincts burning out of control as if it was a wild fire inside my body. My body was getting weaker by the moment. As much as I hated becoming that psychopathic killer, Subject Delta was the only hope to survive the horde that was rapidly approaching.

"Daddy?" The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister asked me with a concerned tone. Her concern was the final push that I needed and I became the "demon" that The Rapture Family hated and feared with such passion. The pressure suddenly released, causing me to let out a deafening, guttural, demonic roar that shook the area as my eye began to constantly emit hellish red light. Any feeling of weakness vanished as the wonderful feeling of homicidal rage invigorated my body.

_So, the little fucking rats want to play? They want to spend some quality time with ol' Subject Delta? Hmm...this had better be worth my time then._

I ceased my roar as the first report of Alpha's weapon filled the air. Looking down the right path, I saw six Thuggish Splicers, two women in tattered dresses and four men in torn worker's attire, rushing towards us. Two of them stumbled as they tried to jump over the corpse of the Rosie that we had killed. As they neared the edge of the water, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into the trap.

The blue electrical bolts shot out of my left hand's ported finger tips and flew through the air before they made contact with the water. The deranged individuals recklessly continued forward straight into the electrified water. They cried out in pure agony as the blue arcs of electricity danced around their bodies for a few seconds before they collapsed in smoking heaps.

However, no sooner had they rattled their death bellows before five Leadhead Splicers, three women wielding revolvers, one man wielding a shotgun, and one man wielding a Thompson Submachine Gun, appeared as they rounded the corner of the diner down the left path. At the same time, down the right path, seven Thuggish Splicers appeared. As they rushed towards us, they cried, "Kill the beast! Kill the demon!"

As Alpha opened fire at the Splicers on the left path with his Prototype Rivet Gun, I will another blast of Electro Bolt into the water. Swiveling back to face the Leadhead Splicers, I willed my genetic flames to replace my Electro Bolt Plasmid. Three of the individuals were already dead with single, bloody holes in their deformed heads. Alpha dropped the fourth Splicer with a single head-shot while she was firing up at him with her crudely repaired weapon.

Suddenly, Eleanor cried out, "DADDY!" Snapping back to face the right path, I turned just in time for a huge fist to slam into the surface of my eye. The sound of the bones in my assailant's fist shattering as if they were made of glass was barely audible as I recoiled backwards while my helmet shook with a reverberating echo. Before I could react, a second massive fist slammed down on top of my right shoulder in a hammer blow. This time, it was my bones that broke as a result of the vicious attack.

By then, I had identified my attacker as a Brute Splicer dressed in the ripped remains of a tailored suit and top hat. In a way, he reminded me of a disfigured Mr. Hyde. I roared in primal fury as my broken right shoulder was healed by my First Aid Reserve Tank. The abomination proclaimed, "She's gonna watch me do ya son!"

_Is that so?_

I grinned sadistically beneath my face as he thrust his right fist towards me. Raising my left hand up, I caught his left wrist in a vise-like grip. As I held his wrist, I quickly flanked around him until I was in position and then I violently forced his left arm to bend backwards at an unnatural angle. The Brute Splicer cried out in confusion and anger, "Fight fair ya Molly!"

Ignoring his pleas, I continued to apply pressure until, out of the natural instinct to alleviate the pain, he bent forward and used his free hand to support himself. I revved up my industrial-grade drill and thrust its whirling, razor-sharp tip into the abomination's vulnerable right kneecap. He howled in agony as my drill ripped apart the soft tissue and bone, causing a tremendous amount of blood to eject out of his body and coat my drill as well as the ground around us.

_Filthy abomination...think you can compare to a Big Daddy? You're nothing! Look at you...on your hands and knees for me...you pile of trash.  
_

I released my grip on his wrist and the overgrown Splicer fell forward to face plant onto the hard, disgusting concrete floor. Eleanor glanced over at him in mild interest as she continued to gather from the corpse. He flopped around as if he was a fish out of water until I stomped down on the back of his skull with my armored right foot. The weight of my foot easily crushed the abomination's skull and flattened it into a bloody paste.

There was no time to celebrate as small caliber rounds struck me in the back. Most of them bounced off my two tanks and helmet but a few managed to strike me in the less armored sections of my diving suit. However, my helmet was uniform in its frontal and rear length so, again, my vital areas were covered by the zone of immunity granted by the thick copper hide of my face.

I wheeled around to face towards the right path and saw two male Thuggish Splicers that had already made it past the pool of water as well as three female Leadhead Splicers armed with revolvers by the body of the Rosie. Meanwhile, in my limited peripheral vision, I saw my Alpha Series brother engaging five Leadhead Splicers down the left path.

I patiently waited for my opening as the two men bore down on my position as they both laughed madly while they dragged their sections of lead pipe behind them. The leftmost one reached me first and, as he started to swing his makeshift bludgeoning weapon at me in a jumping leap, I quickly twisted my body as I sent my left elbow out to meet him. The reckless man never even slowed down until the front of his skull collided with the point of my left elbow in a bone crunching impact.

While the man recovered, I shifted my attention to the other Thuggish Splicer. I swung my drill from my left to my right and succeeded in cracking open the right side of the Splicer's skull with the grooved right side of my tool. My blow sent the man stumbling sideways for a moment while he cried out unintelligibly in a dazed tone. By then, the other Thuggish Splicer had recovered and was rushing towards me once more.

I reached out with my left hand and grabbed ahold of him by the front of his head. Ignoring his cries of protest, I picked him up and then violently thrust him into the side of the nearby unknown structure to the left of us. The impact with the structure crushed the man's skull beneath my palm as if it was a raw egg. At the same time, I saw the other Thuggish Splicer rushing towards me. Revving up my drill, I swung my formidable weapon into the right side of the Splicer's neck. The spinning razor-sharp point of my drill easily gouged out the soft flesh and severed the Splicer's carotid and subclavian arteries.

I released the bloodied mass beneath my left palm and sidestepped the falling Thuggish Splicer that had blood flowing down the side of his mangled neck as I focused my attention on the three Leadhead Splicers. As they continued to fire their revolvers at me, I willed a blast of Incinerate! out of the ported digits on my left hand. The women screamed in misery as the genetic flames ignited their clothing and began to cook their flesh. Ignorant to everything except the agony, they mindlessly jumped into the pool of water before them in an effort to extinguish the flames. The second that they made contact with the surface of the water, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into the conductive fluid.

I ignored their deaths as I looked back down to check on my temporary charge. The little girl looked back up at me as she held her needle inside the corpse before her. I could see Eleanor behind her glowing yellow eyes; that edge of intelligence and strong will that gave the child's eyes an intimidating sharpness. Her skin was so pale that it had a red tint from the light being emitted from my segmented eye. The frail-looking child assured me, "Soon Daddy. Soon."

I grunted back in response and then looked up to survey our surroundings. The hornet's nest had been riled up and the residents of The Drop did not show any signs of relenting any time soon as I saw ten Thuggish Splicers coming down both the left and right path. Meanwhile, I heard Alpha's Trap Rivets fire as the incoming Splicers assaulted his position as well. I mentally sighed as I almost felt sorry for them.

As the right group recklessly entered the water, I again willed a blast of Electro Bolt into the trap. This time, I growled in discomfort as fresh EVE was pumped into my body through my IV Tube. While the deranged individuals met their end in the electrified water, I turned my entire body to face the left path. The ten Thuggish Splicers raced towards the Little Sister unopposed because Alpha was being forced to defend his own position as the Splicers used raw numbers to get through his line of Trap Rivets.

As the deformed wave of humanity reached the oil slick, I willed a blast of Incinerate! into the flammable substance. The Splicers were so blinded by their desire for ADAM that they never saw the hazard until it was too late and their bodies were engulfed by the blaze. Letting out agonized wails, they stumbled forward a few steps and then collapsed silently in flaming heaps onto the damp floor.

Meanwhile, I heard Eleanor singing with her Little Sister voice, "In einem Bächlein helle…da schoß in froher Eil. Die launische Forelle...vorüber wie ein Pfeil." Despite the situation, I found myself captivated by her impromptu opera performance as her enchanting voice echoed through the entire Drop.

As another Brute Splicer appeared as he rushed towards me from down the right path and a new wave of Thuggish Splicers appeared as they rushed from down the left path, she continued, "Ich stand an dem Gestade…und sah in süßer ruh."

I hit the Brute Splicer with a blast of Electro Bolt and then quickly turned to face the wave of cannon fodder. I ignited the oil slick once again with my Incinerate! Plasmid.

"Des muntern Fischleins Bade…im klaren Bächlein zu."

A huge section of concrete smashed into my right shoulder. I turned back to face the abomination just in time to see him throw another broken slab of the concrete floor at me. Raising my left hand, I caught the section with my Telekinesis Plasmid and then launched it back at my assailant. The concrete section hit home in the center of the heavily spliced man's chest.

"Ein Fischer mit der Rute wohl an dem Ufer stand…"

The abomination shrugged off the impact from the concrete slab and began to charge forward as he ran on all fours as if he was an animal. I swung my drill to stop his charge but he grabbed it and pushed it aside before he collided violently against my heavy frame. The abomination took advantage of my impaired reaction time due to my rapidly deteriorating health by following up with a powerful left hook across my armored face. The force of the impact caused me to move backwards a few steps as well as forcing my torso to twist to the left.

"…und sah's mit kaltem Blute…"

Letting out an enraged, guttural roar that rocked the entire area, I twisted back around and then sent my left fist straight into the abomination's lower abdomen around the pancreas in an uppercut to traumatize the glandular organ. My blow succeeded in sending the Splicer into a state of shock, which rendered him temporarily immobile and vulnerable.

"…wie sich das Fischlein wand."

Summoning what was left of my strength, I swung my drill so hard that it caused a numb feeling in my arm straight into the monster's skull. The brutal power of my strike effectively annihilated the abomination's head as my drill's steel alloy bit penetrated straight through the bone and underlying brain matter before exiting out the other side. The partially headless corpse collapsed onto the ground.

I was seized upon from behind as one of the Thuggish Splicers from the left path jumped onto my back and held himself in place by grabbing ahold of one of the handles used by my Little Sister charge. As the denizen held onto me, he began to bludgeon my right hose-like nostril with his scavenged pipe wrench. Meanwhile, another Thuggish Splicer, this one a woman with a heavily bandaged face, appeared before me and began to strike me in my armored chest with her section of lead pipe.

"So lang dem Wasser helle…"

As I calmly reached down to the diving knife strapped to my left leg with my left hand, I swung my drill at the woman. My repurposed mining tool hit home as it impacted her across her shrouded face. The deranged woman recoiled backwards as sections of the bandages ripped away to reveal the horribly deformed skin beneath.

"…so dacht' ich, nicht gebricht…"

I unscrewed my diving knife from its sheath and withdrew the copper beryllium blade. Flipping the knife so that the blade was pointing straight up, I thrust it over my shoulder and imbedded it in the Splicer's forehead. I felt the body become limp and then fall off my back. As it did, I violently ripped my knife free and then, after quickly wiping the blood off its blade on the side of my left leg, I screwed it back into its sheath.

"…so fängt er die Forelle…mit seiner Angel nicht."

The woman ran towards me again as she screamed, "Kill the demon!" I swung my drill into her head once more. This time, the Splicer crumpled to the disgusting, damp concrete floor and did not get up. My victory was short-lived. Suddenly, I was seized by the invisible assailant of my deteriorating physiological bond with Eleanor.

A sharp pain erupted in my chest and I struggled to breathe. I could feel another heart seizure coming and I began to panic because it would render me incapable of protecting my charge. My mind began to play tricks on me as the image of Sofia Lamb materialized before me. The psychiatrist mocked me as she crossed her arms and said with an arrogant tone, "Place it against your head…fire."

_Fuck you! _

I let out a guttural roar as the maddening fury of my Protector Instincts refused to be extinguished. The manifestation of Sofia Lamb disappeared as it was replaced by a real assailant in the form of a deformed middle-aged female Thuggish Splicer clad in a torn, moldy dress. I revved up my drill and then thrust my tool into the woman's chest. Within seconds, I had bored completely through her and had flung her into the wall to remove her corpse from my drill.

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in my left leg. I began to turn to eliminate my attacker but stopped when a warm feeling began to spread throughout my entire body. Relief flooded my dying frame as the fresh ADAM temporarily halted my body's self-destruct programming. I let out a low, rumbling groan as the intense agony vanished completely and my strength began to return.

Eleanor chirped, "Tada! All better! Right Daddy?" I grunted reassuringly in response as I twisted my torso so that I could see her where she was standing next to my left leg. She smiled up at me with a wide smile while she extracted her gatherer tool from the thick hide of my leg. Blood was around her pale lips like a red curtain from when she had been gathering as quickly as she could without choking. We could both hear the Splicers retreating back towards the downtown section of Pauper's Drop.

As my Protector Instincts retreated back into the farthest reaches of my mind, I collapsed down onto my knees. Eleanor's brief expression of deep concern evaporated as I gently pulled her tiny frame to rest up against my armored chest with the palm of my left hand. My daughter tried to return the hug as best she could with her tiny arms but my frame was just too massive for her arms to wrap around. As if she was compensating for her inability to return the hug completely, she rested her forehead against the exterior of my copper face at the very top of my eye so that the only thing that I could see were the glowing orbs of her eyes.

I smiled slightly beneath my emotionless face as I felt the warmth of her small body through the material of my ported glove as well as the warmth coming from her glowing eyes. As long as I could still draw breath, this was my place: between the monsters of Rapture and the innocents of Rapture. My lack of focus had cost everyone that had held faith in me so much, but I would ensure that I gained some amount of redemption before I was once again seized upon by the black abyss of death.

I grunted, "Eleanor, we have to move." The little girl sighed in disappointment but withdrew from my frame. As I started to stand, I asked, "That song that you were singing…did you write that?"

She giggled before she replied, "No…did you like it?" I let out a confirming grunt in response. She smiled and then informed me, "_Die Forelle_ by Schubert. Well…someone else wrote the poem and then Schubert adapted it into a song." As Subject Alpha walked up to stand to our left, she turned and smiled up at him. Then, after a moment, she injected her tool's needle into his left leg and pumped the remainder of the ADAM inside the tool's reservoir into him.

My brother let out a low, rumbling groan as the fresh ADAM entered his system. She withdrew her tool and he said, "Thank you, Miss Eleanor."

The little girl giggled as she remarked, "Of course, Papa Alpha." She then turned back towards me and motioned that she was ready to ride on my back. Using my left hand, I lifted her up onto my shoulder where she quickly re-situated herself on her throne. She knocked on the top of my armored head with her tool to indicate that she was ready and we started to make our way towards the downtown market district of The Drop.

Behind the diner, we came upon the Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine. I inserted my left arm into the port so that the machine's needle could verify that I did have the ADAM to spend on the products inside the device's vault-like reservoir. A few of the options lit up to show me what I could purchase. I withdrew my arm and then studied my choices.

There were more choices than the machine in Ryan Amusements had offered. However, it appeared that, even ten years later, I already had most of the Gene Tonics available that suited my combat approach. The Civil War and the Fall of Rapture had, obviously, halted the development of new Tonics and Plasmids. Moreover, these machines only distributed the "run-of-the-mill" commercial lines. I had spliced the "military-grade" lines made exclusively for Big Daddies.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. Were the Tonics' effects compoundable? If that was true, by combining the exclusive Tonics that I had as a Big Daddy and the ones that were commercially available, I could more than double the benefits granted by them and become perfect for Eleanor. However, that meant doing something that was enough to send a stab of intense fright through my mind.

The more power that I granted to myself, the more power I that granted to the monster Subject Delta. The last time that I had lost control, during the fight with Comstock, I had nearly cost Eleanor and myself the chance to escape. If I lost control after combining Gene Tonics like I was envisioning, the damage that I would be capable of would be catastrophic.

However, as Eleanor's protector, I would be endangering my beloved master if I did not ensure that I was capable of destroying anything and anyone that dared to harm her. What was more important, my humanity or Eleanor? As far as I was concerned, the human man that I had once been was long gone. No one had even bothered to remember that Johnny Topside was just a nickname dreamed up by Eleanor so that I would appear more heroic to the citizens of Rapture. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, that man was dead. There was now only the killing machine Subject Delta.

Besides, as much as I loved Eleanor, how could I not chose her life over my own? If it meant destroying what was left of a dead man and becoming a true monster to be able to protect my Eleanor, that was how far I was willing to go for her.

First, I selected the commercial-grade Armored Shell Gene Tonic to boost what I already had spliced. As I injecting myself with the protective tonic, I let out a growl of slight discomfort as I felt a thin but effective protective layer beneath my skin increase in thickness. I then selected both the Health and EVE Upgrades. I saw that there was an available upgrade for the Electro Bolt Plasmid. However, I did not have enough ADAM to purchase it yet. I mentally sighed. That was all I could do for now. Even still, now that I knew that the Gene Tonics' effects were compoundable, I knew that I could mold myself into the perfect companion for my beloved master. I just had to be careful not to overindulge and collapse my entire DNA structure because then I would be useful to no one.

I moved away from the machine and Alpha began to purchase upgrades. My brother upgraded his health and EVE capacity as I had. Moreover, he also choose to purchase Armored Shell. However, due to his preference for long-range combat, he purchased the Decoy Plasmid. An often overlooked Plasmid, the Decoy Plasmid allowed its wielder to project a kind of clone within their field of view. The average Splicer and normal human being was easily fooled and distracted by the projected decoy. While not user friendly to the casual or inexperienced Plasmid wielder, in the proper hands, the Decoy Plasmid was as dangerous as any offensive Plasmid. Considering that it was going to be wielded by my brother, I knew that the Plasmid was going to be a devastating force.

After stocking up on supplies from the nearby El Bandito Vending Machine, we began to move down the left flight of stairs next to the Gatherer's Garden. As I led the way down the worn steps, I noticed an advertisement for Grace Holloway and her performances at the Limbo Room at the far end of Pauper's Drop. I had forgotten that she had been an outspoken singer, and an influential one at that. I recalled that she had been outspoken about Andrew Ryan's policies in her songs and he had taken out his ever increasing obsession with Sofia Lamb on her by blacklisting her from performing in any halfway decent venue in Rapture.

Grace had first come to Ryan's attention when her husband began to speak out against the industrialist's policies. I remembered the man. As with so many others "vanished" to Persephone, the torturous conditions of that prison broke the poor man physically and spiritually. One day, he stole a full can of paint thinner from the workshop and went back to his cell. I could hear the commotion from inside my isolation tank. Later, during my heavily monitored lunch hour, one of my escorting guards mentioned to another that the man never made any noise even as the flames consumed the entire cell.

Ryan had blacklisted Grace but the singer had managed to make due with her gig at the Limbo Room. If my recollection was correct, that would have been around the time that Eleanor was kidnapped, I was sent to Persephone for being a "spy", and we were both turned into the first successful Big Daddy/Little Sister bonded pair. My memories of those days were a blur. There was a huge blank in my memories between when I was sent to Persephone and when I awoke on the operating table as Subject Delta.

Grace's singing career ended sometime after we had been turned a bonded pair for some reason though I could not remember what it was exactly. A thought occurred to me. Perhaps, I had somehow been the cause of the end of her career. Having your livelihood taken away from you would certainly make someone vindictive and bitter. However, Grace believed that I had kidnapped Eleanor and turned her into a Little Sister. That could not have been it then. I must have done something else to Gracie.

After having to turn two times, we came to the bottom of the flight of stairs. Against the damp wall that separated the two flights of stairs was a Little Sister Vent. Turning to the left, I found the narrow street that led to the seemingly abandoned King Pawn building. In a corner nearby on the left, I saw a Splicer nest that had a working television set, though it only displayed the "Please Standby" public service message.

"We are being followed." My brother commented behind me.

I replied, "I know. Two Big Sisters…they've been following us since we arrived in Pauper's Drop. One of them is the Big Sister from Ryan Amusements."

As we moved towards the King Pawn building, Alpha remarked, "The other Big Sister smells different."

I grunted in response, "No pheromone signature…maybe she was never bonded to the Mass Production Models or one of us."

He mused aloud, "I wonder how that happened…"

Eleanor remarked, "Some of my sisters were never bonded Papa Alpha. During the war, the Little Sisters that could not produce as much as they were supposed to were put into reserve and used as clinical trial subjects."

He grunted in disgusted, "Bastards…it was not her fault."

Before I could comment, a Brute Splicer appeared up on top of the King Pawn building around the neon sign as he boasted, "She's gonna watch me do ya son." Then, letting out a grunt of exertion, he jumped down to the ground and began to charge towards us. I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my left hand into the abomination to halt his charge.

While the blue electrical arcs danced around the Brute's frame, my brother took aim and fired two molten rivets into the ape-like Splicer's left and right elbow. The molten projectiles imbedded themselves into the joints where they inflicted crippling damage as well as scorched the surrounding soft tissue. However, the monster shrugged off the hits and barreled towards us on all fours. Just before he could impact my frame, I was suddenly pushed aside by my companion.

Instead, the Brute Splicer slammed into Alpha in a brutal collision of flesh and metal. My brother absorbed the impact and used his superior height to press down on his assailant's shoulders. Alpha's counter sent the Splicer face-first onto the cracked surface of the street. While the abomination was recovering, my brother fired two rivets into the denizen's hands to pin them to the street while he simultaneously unsheathed his diving knife.

The Brute Splicer let out a loud cry of rage as he attempted to pull free from the rivets anchoring him to the ground. However, without any signs of hesitation or uncertainty, my brother plunged the tip of his knife's blade into the right side of the monster's lumpy neck at an angle. After rocking the blade back and forth a few times, Alpha swiftly removed his knife from the Splicer. Alpha's strike had severed the abomination's brainstem and he was dead before he hit the ground.

As he sheathed his knife, I remarked, "Nicely done…and thanks."

My brother motioned with his once again free left hand that it was a trifle matter. We continued forward and, when we reached the small plaza at the end of the street, I mentally sighed as I saw the advanced state of deterioration. A train car had fallen from the overhead line and was imbedded into the center of the plaza at a sharp angle that was nearly vertical. The watertight seal was broken in the section of the ceiling above the car and a river of seawater was flowing down onto its surface to feed the growing pool around its base. Just to the left of the collapsed car I saw what appeared to be a memorial for Penitence Mill, the owner of the Atlantic Express.

The hotel to our immediate right had long since gone out of business but the neon sign advertising its "hourly" rates was still emitting its haunting glow. The King Pawn building was sealed by a locked link of thick metal chain. The Fontaine Clinic building to the left of the pawn shop was also sealed by what appeared to be a number combination lock. The building on the far left appeared to have suffered the worst of all as I noticed that whole sections of wall had been haphazardly demolished by the deranged residents when they built makeshift catwalks to allow quick access between buildings.

I growled in irritation as I realized that this entire plaza was one big mouse trap. The only way to get to the Market District was through the watertight security door on the far side between the gutted building and the Fontaine Clinic building. However, casually marching to the door was inviting death from the hidden Splicers lying in wait inside the maze of buildings. We needed to clear out the buildings before we proceeded towards the security door.

I addressed my companions, "Splicer death trap, we need to clear out the buildings before we can reach the security door. Only way I see is through the clinic but it is locked. We need to find out what the combination is. Suggestions?"

Alpha grunted, "Let's see…numbers zero through nine with four slots and the numbers can be repeated…that's only…what? Ten thousand possible combinations…?"

Eleanor suggested, "Well…the owner clearly locked the place to keep the drugs safe. So…said owner would have to change the code often to keep people from guessing it and getting inside. The owner would have been constantly under stress so he or she would have frequented the local watering hole to drown her or his sorrows with a drink. We should try the Fishbowl Diner…maybe the owner was lazy enough to write it down on something."

Without any better ideas myself I replied, "Good thinking, kid. That's as good of a start as any. Let's go." We turned around and began to make our way back to the diner to try to find the combination for the clinic combination lock.


	13. Chapter 13: Roses are red

Ch. 13: Roses are red…

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Good news, I did manage to find a new copy of BioShock 2. So, the updates should be more regular for now on.

Anyway,

The story does not progress that much but Eleanor and Delta bond some more.

The part with Sigma may be confusing because of Chapter 1 but remember that Delta was still disorientated then and thus could not recall everything that had happened until he calmed down.

Also, I appreciate that this story is still getting attention despite how long it has taken me to update.

As always, read and review if you want. Feedback is appreciated :)

* * *

As we made our way towards the diner, I reflected on my predicament. As powerful as I was, I was never intended to weather continuous fighting. Big Daddies required maintenance just like anything mechanical did. The decayed conditions of Rapture and the unavoidable wear and tear of combat were now against me. However, unlike the lumbering Tin Men, Alpha Series Big Daddies were designed and built with long-term survival in mind.

The Tin Men required near continuous maintenance in order to function adequately. Those R-34 wire modules within their suits, which, incidentally, were very important for the overall effectiveness of said lumbering giants, were unprotected and exposed to both environmental and combat damage. Any would-be attacker or salvager could easily remove the wire cluster without much experience or knowledge of working on the Mass Production Models.

Moreover, the suits of the Mass Production Models were particularly vulnerable to the corrosive conditions found in Rapture. The construction of the suits were their own worst enemy. While our suits were constructed using riveting, the Tin Men's construction often used welding in certain areas to cut costs. Welding reduced the weight of the giants' suits and also, at least on paper, strengthened them at the same time.

However, as the growing unrest began to creep into every part of Rapture, the quality of the welding began to suffer. The decline in the quality progressed to the point that the welded plates were failing under pressure. It reminded me of the old Liberty Ships when their construction shifted to welding to save weight. In the frigid conditions of the North Atlantic, as they were shipping supplies to England, the seams of the Liberty Ships were literally failing under the ships' own weight. Their designs were altered to include a reinforcing strip of steel on either side of the weak section in the center of the vessel and the issue was solved.

However, the Mass Production Models appeared to be receiving maintenance since they were still functional. Sofia must have reactivated the Point Prometheus facility. Otherwise, the mindless drones would have long since been rendered useless wrecks wallowing about in the partially sunken hallways of Rapture as if they were tortoises flipped over on their backs.

A thought occurred to me and I asked my brother, "Do you know who is responsible for the new Mass Production Model?"

Alpha grunted in response, "The dumb-asses with the rocket launchers? First saw them around the time that Sofia took control of Rapture. At first, they did not have a launcher. In fact, they were modified Rosie Models with lighter suits and rapid-firing Rivet Guns. That went on for a while until the Splicers learned to get in the Tin Man's face. Then, they shifted to some weird hunchback design that used a spiked mace thing at the end of a metal chain for close-quarters combat and a horribly inaccurate grenade launcher strapped to its back that was more dangerous to the Protector than a Splicer. What they are now is basically a modified version of that."

After a moment, he continued, "As to who…I am not certain but, if I had to venture a guess, I would suspect that Alexander has something to do with them."

The mentioning of my designer's name resonated within me. Gilbert Alexander, the man who gave birth to us. In a way, those of us in the Alpha Series considered him our father. We also wanted to break every bone in his body while we slowly tortured him to death. They treated us as if we were nothing. They treated the animals better than us. Alexander was good-natured compared to the rest of the butchers called scientists, but he still remained silent and did nothing to help us despite his guilt. They treated us as if we were nothing, broke us physically and mentally with inhumane experiments and Plasmid trials, and took our humanity from us but then blamed us for being "failures" as if it had been our fault.

Still, if he was still alive and sane, the man could be of some use to us. He might even be willing to shed some light on possibly reversing the mental disorder afflicting the "Big Sisters". Alexander was a good man beneath his mask of science. Perhaps, his conscience had finally caught up to him.

By then, we had reached the back entrance to the Fishbowl Diner. The dented door slid sideways as the automatic opening mechanism was miraculously still functional. I cautiously entered the kitchen area as the danger of not only Splicer attack but also the entire structure collapsing was all too real. As I moved into the kitchen, suddenly, the sound of heavy footfalls on the roof above me filled the still air as dust rained down from the ceiling. I remained wary of the threat as I continued further into the groaning structure.

I was struck by the lack of Splicer ransacking in the kitchen. In fact, the two clean, white refrigeration units along the right wall of the humbly small kitchen were still closed and latched. The deep fryers in the center of the space had long-since ceased to cook meals for the hungry customers in the old-fashioned booth and stool-style eating area that was visible through the open space along the wall in front of me. Along the left wall, I saw sealed cans of fruit, vegetables, and meat that were seemingly undisturbed despite being out in the open.

A surreal feeling entered my psyche as I also noticed the undisturbed blue and white coffee thermos that was still where it had been placed on the counter awaiting a customer that would never come. There was a solemn atmosphere in the diner that had seemingly become a time capsule when the proprietors had abandoned the establishment in place. The Splicers of The Drop must have remembered eating here back before they went mad and now considered this place to be either sacred or perhaps even cursed due to its connection to their seemingly ancient past.

I mentally shivered as I made my way into the main area of the diner. I just wanted to search for the code to the clinic lock and then get out of the unsettling interior of the diner as quickly as possible. The dark, eerie eating area was silent except for the thundering report of my boots that echoed through the entire structure. Alpha was close behind me as we began to search for the code amongst the empty booths and bar stools. The cash register was securely locked where it was on its back on the dirty white tile of the floor in front of the counter.

As I searched, I realized that my earlier observation that the panes of glass were missing in the window frames was false. I looked towards the far wall beyond the counter and saw the remains of what had once been a man. As I moved closer, I saw a blood-covered double barreled shotgun to the left of the body and a full EVE Hypo near its right arm. The man's wounds and the amount of blood suggested that he had died fighting but I could not be certain. Nearby, I saw a newspaper that had four red numbers inside of a circle handwritten on the surface of the visible page. The numbers were zero, zero, four, and seven. Above the numbers but still inside the circle was the word "Clinic".

I grunted to my companion, "Right as always, kid."

Before she could reply, my built-in shortwave radio activated. The female voice that came through was faint but there was no mistaking the fatigued tone of the holocaust survivor as she asked me, "Hello, can you hear me, Herr Delta?"

Shocked, I let out an affirming grunt in response. Tenenbaum addressed me with the barest traces of hope and gratitude in her accented voice, "Sofia Lamb is making communication difficult. The girl that you rescued is with me now. She tells me that Herr Alpha survives and is with you. This is good. I am in need of your help."

After a moment, she explained, "ADAM ravages both mind and body like a benign cancer. Its predatory nature corrupts all that are exposed to it. The Plasmid that I developed for my Little Ones is promising but limited to them alone. The body of a Splicer or Big Daddy rejects its effects. Undesirable. However, with your help, I believe that I will be able to reverse the process."

To say that I was stunned would be an understatement. Until that moment, I had considered my condition to be permanent. I knew perfectly well that the amount of ADAM inside my body would be too much to maintain once my job was done. The idea of returning to the surface with my beloved Eleanor suddenly seemed to be within the realm of possibility. If anyone could actually reverse the deteriorating effects of ADAM, it was Tenenbaum. At times, she struck me as being out-of-place in our world as she performed seemingly miraculous feats of science as if they were mere child's play.

The scientist continued, "Lamb's followers and agents control the city. Nothing escapes her watchful eye. However, Lamb…she is obsessed with your return, Herr Delta. Even now, her watch over the city is weakened. I need you and Herr Alpha to cause as much chaos as you can so that Herr Sigma can retrieve what I need from Minerva's Den without outside interference from Lamb."

Subject Sigma was alive? A wave of hope and optimism rolled through me. Though Sigma had never officially been a Protector due to not being bonded to a Little Sister, he was still one of us. However, from what I had seen in the Plasmid Theater at Fontaine Futuristics, what Sigma lacked in having Protector Instincts, he made up for in raw will power as he absorbed seemingly mortal wounds without going down.

Minerva's Den? I idly wondered if Sigma remembered his former life and his connection to Minerva's Den. The process of turning an individual into an Alpha Series Big Daddy took a huge toll. It would not surprise me if Sigma had forgotten who he had been before his betrayal. I had thought that The Den had been cut off from the rest of Rapture while I had still been alive. Regardless, I had faith in my brother and Tenenbaum. If they needed us to weave a path of death and destruction to distract Sofia from their activities, then I was happy to oblige.

My built-in radio deactivated as it lost Tenenbaum's signal. Alpha inquired, "What is going on, sir?"

I turned to face him where he was over by the boarded up main entrance and then explained, "Subject Sigma is still alive and is helping Tenenbaum find a way to reverse the effects of ADAM. She wants us to cause enough chaos for Sofia to be distracted from their activities at Minerva's Den."

My brother was silent for a moment before he asked with the distinct sound of renewed hope, "Reverse…sir?"

I grunted in response, "That's what Tenenbaum said."

Again, my brother was silent for a moment. Meanwhile, Eleanor said with her beautiful voice that was filled with excitement, "Daddy…if she reverses the effects on you…we…we…and…and…my sisters…Papa Alpha…Sigma…we could all escape and say goodbye to Rapture forever. Daddy, we could be together on the surface…you would be…we would be…"

I smiled beneath my emotionless face before I grunted, "I know."

Alpha finally asked, "What about Rapture, sir?"

Before I could reply, my radio activated and Sinclair addressed us, "Reversin' the effects of ADAM…Jim Dandy! This partnership is provin' to be a bigger windfall than I could have imagined. Ol' Tenenbaum makes a way to cure the effects of ADAM, and we sell the products of Rapture to the world while holdin' onto the cure…think of it…profit coming, profit going, kid."

My radio deactivated. Sinclair was not wrong. If we did indeed sell the miracle products of Rapture to the world while maintaining a monopoly over the cure for their effects, the profits that we would make would make us billionaires many times over.

"What about Rapture, sir?" My brother's question riled me from my thoughts. It took me a moment to remember that this decaying metropolis had been his home for nearly ten years. Even I felt a strange, morbid attachment to Rapture. Men and women had worshiped her and what she stood for even as their lives were torn asunder around them. Rapture had been meant to be the salvation of mankind from itself as it marched to its own self-destruction in the first and second World Wars.

There was once a dream that was Rapture. However, the dream had become a nightmare. It was time for us to wake up and put an end to the madness. However, in a way, perhaps Rapture could still be the salvation of mankind. I replied, "Rapture is dead, my brother. It is time to put an end to this madness. We finish this now or this place will be our tomb. Are you with me?"

Alpha moved to stand before me and then extended his free left hand. I smiled beneath my face as I extended my own left hand and shook his. As we forged our bond, my brother pledged, "Until the end, sir."

As we exited the diner through the rear entrance, The Drop's Public Broadcast System activated as Grace taunted me, "Eleanor's grown now, Baby Snatcher. Even after what you did to her, Doctor Lamb found a way to shape that girl into something perfect, somethin' holy. She's a daughter to us all. Nobody in Rapture will shelter you now!"

As if I needed reassurance, Sinclair informed me through my built-in radio, "Gracie's got the wrong idea…you're not responsible for turnin' Eleanor into a Little Sister. Big Daddies are just slaves…and you only recently broke free."

Eleanor giggled darkly from where she was riding on her throne for a moment before she asked me, "Mmm…has Papa broken free from his servitude?" I let out a rumbling laugh in the form of repeated grunts in response.

Alpha wondered aloud, "I am curious as to how they think you turned Miss Eleanor into a Little Sister."

Before I could say anything, my charge taunted me with a dark voice that was alien to her tiny host, "Yes, Papa…did you corrupt your little Eleanor by thrusting your warm…throbbing…slug…into me until it released its gooey substance deep inside my little belly while I took it like a good little girl? Mmm…it feels so big inside of me…I can feel its heartbeat and when it pushes against the walls of my little tight channel."

I halted in mid-stride as I grunted bluntly, "Eleanor!"

My master whined, "Don't be a prude, Daddy. I want to carry your baby."

Before I could say anything, she continued, "Please Daddy? Don't you want to have me at your side on the surface with my little belly swollen with your child kicking inside of me?"

Her question elicited a feeling of longing in me as the mental image of Eleanor and I standing together on the surface with my normal-looking bare left hand caressing her swollen abdomen as she pressed it against her with her pale hand. As she snuggled her form into me, she smiled up at me. I smiled back as I felt our child kick inside her.

_No! Foolish old man! Do you really think that you deserve a family after everything that you have done? You are a monster! A killer of men! _

Not wanting to upset my daughter, I grunted in response with my Alpha Series voice, "Eleanor, if I make it out of this place alive, I am yours as long as you wish to have me."

My charge asked with concern in her voice, "What do you mean by if you survive, Daddy?"

I mentally sighed. I knew that my beautiful master still saw me as some invincible, larger-than-life walking tank but, in a way, Sofia had been correct when she had said that my day was done. My design was obsolete and had been so for many years. Even with ADAM and mechanical upgrades, I was still only an Alpha Series Big Daddy. I was now facing predators that had evolved to be able to take down Protectors that were far more armored and powerful than I was.

I felt a little like the infamous German Panzer VI Version H "Tiger I" Heavy Tank. When the 55 ton behemoth was first introduced in 1942, it was the most powerful mobile weapon platform that had ever been fielded in the history of warfare. With its deadly, reliable, and accurate 88mm Kwk 36 L/56 main cannon, which was the mobile version of the infamous "Flak 88" anti-armor and anti-aircraft gun, and its two MG 34 machine guns, the Tiger I was the proverbial death incarnate for any Allied tank or foot soldier that dared to challenge her in combat. With her 100mm frontal armor, 80mm side plates, and her rear 80mm armor, the Tiger 1 was nearly immune from the 75mm gun of the American M4 Sherman if properly angled by her crew.

The Tiger I was meant to be a breakthrough armored vehicle that would be the "miracle" weapon that Germany needed to ensure battlefield supremacy over the Allies. More specifically, the Tiger I was Germany's answer for the legendary Soviet T-34 and KV-1 tanks that had proven to be superior to the Panzers already in service. However, by the time that she could finally be fielded, the situation had changed dramatically against the Germans, who had found themselves on the defensive rather than the offensive.

Faced with impossible odds on fronts in both the East and the West, the Tiger I's and their crews steeled themselves and fought a futile war that would cost most of them their lives. The Tiger I's own 55 ton frame became her own worst enemy as German supplies became increasingly critical. Designed as a breakthrough offensive weapon, she was resigned to a chaotic defensive war that taxed her already strained transmission, suspension, and engine beyond their mechanical limits. Breakdowns were common but, overall, the Tigers were still mechanically reliable despite being used in ways that they had never been intended.

Though few in number, only a little more than a thousand had been produced by the end of 1944, and constantly hindered by fuel consumption and maintenance, the Tiger I's were still a nightmare for all who were unfortunate enough to encounter them in combat. I was never in the European Theater myself, but I had friends who were and the stories that they would tell about the Tigers were enough to send a shiver down my spine. I remembered a story about a Tiger commander by the name of Staudegger. They said that on July 7, 1943, a massive Soviet tank column of fifty T-34 tanks came across a lone Tiger I that was defending Psyolknee during the Battle of Kursk.

Outnumbered, Staudegger and his Tiger I, which was reported to have just been repaired hence why she was the only Tiger in the area, held their ground with her thick front angled forty degrees to the incoming Soviets to maximize the protection of her armor.

The lone Tiger I expended her entire ammunition supply of ninety-two shells and succeeded in destroying twenty-two of the T-34's without being put out of action herself. The remaining Soviet tanks retreated, allowing Staudegger and his Tiger I a window of opportunity to withdraw for resupply and repairs.

How much of that story was true and how much of it was merely an exaggeration on the German's part to boost their soldiers' morale, I did not know. However, I did know that Staudegger did exist, he was a Tiger tank commander, and that he was awarded the Knight's Cross for his reported actions on that day. Unlike a great majority of the German Tiger commanders, he also survived the war and was even spared from the Allied witch hunt of German officers that followed.

However, despite successes like Staudegger's and a reported kill ratio of more than ten-to-one, the days of the Tiger 1 were numbered by 1944. Allied tactics had adapted to handle their presence on the battlefield as they learned the Tiger I's faults. The introduction of high-velocity anti-tank guns such as the British 17-pounder and the "Tiger-killers" such as the grossly overpowered Soviet IS-2 Heavy Tank armed with its 122mm cannon rendered her once invincible armor as more of a liability than an asset. Even the infamous Tiger I Ace Michael Wittman, the "Black Baron", was unable to escape his fate and was cut down along with his Tiger in 1944 when he led a counter-attack in the place of another commander who he believed to be "too inexperienced" to lead the charge.

Effectively rendered "obsolete" by the Allies, abandoned in favor of the new Tiger II's by her own crews in late 1944, with the critically low level of German resources further reducing her combat effectiveness, and with the unstoppable industrial juggernaut of the Allied Armies closing in for the kill, the few remaining Tiger I's defiantly fought on until the very end of the war. Of the little more than a thousand produced, only a handful survived by the fall of Nazi Germany in 1945.

The Tiger I was similar to myself and my brethren. We had also been cast aside in favor of "bigger and better" designs and left to fight on ultimately in vain against hordes of "lesser" threats in the form of the average Splicer. Now, as the Tiger I's had near the end of the war, I was facing off against enemies that had adapted to be able to kill me in the form of the Big Sisters on top of the hordes of lesser Thuggish, Leadhead, Spider, and Houdini Splicers. Not to mention the lumbering drones of the Mass Production Models that now posed a more significant threat than they had in my own time ten years prior.

I smirked as I thought, '_This obsolete Tiger I is not going down without a fight…even if I have to take the rest of Rapture with me, I will get Eleanor and all the other captives of Sofia to the surface. As I am sure you know Sofia…there is nothing more dangerous than a dying animal._'

Not wanting to upset Eleanor, I grunted as I started to make my way back to the Clinic, "Nothing, kid. Just…let's not get ahead of ourselves alright? We still have a lot of work to do before we can start to think about the surface."

My master replied, "Oh, you're right, Daddy. I am getting ahead of myself. Sorry, I am just so excited right now. I have been dreaming about this day for so long…just to have you back is more than I ever dared to wish for. Even if we die trying to escape, it will have been worth it just to have been with you again." I smiled beneath my emotionless copper face in response but remained silent.

As we reached the bottom of the left staircase, Eleanor added, "One thing though Daddy…if you **EVER** look at another girl…I promise that I will kill her and wear her skin like a suit." She giggled with delight before she finished, "Then, you can look at the **WHORE **all you want to."

_'Oh fuck, she is one of those girls!'_

I felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of my neck as I suddenly felt ice cold. Hiding my fear, I assured my master, "Trust me, Eleanor…that will not be a problem. I'm yours...remember?"

She giggled before she said, "I know Johnny…and I trust you. I just don't trust the little whores that will try to take you away from me."

We were nearing the courtyard by that time. The sound of falling water filled the air from the waterfall impacting the collapsed Atlantic Express train car in the middle of the courtyard. I mentally cursed as the constant noise prevented me from being able to hear any potential sounds of hidden Splicers. I halted as I reached the red-lit corner just before the courtyard.

The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister riding on my back sniffed the air for a moment before she let out a quiet whine of fright. She informed me, "Ssshhh…Daddy…bad people." There were Splicers lying in wait for us and the little girl had smelled the ADAM in their bodies. Walking out into the open was inviting death. We needed to draw out our hidden assailants if we wanted a chance to get to the Clinic in one piece.

Beside me, Alpha remarked, "Leave it to me, sir." Before I could reply, he raised his left hand and pointed it in the general direction of the open space before us between the strange structure similar to the one near the Fishbowl Diner, the King Pawn building in the far right corner, and the tenant building to our immediate right. Before my eyes, a perfect replica of Alpha appeared out of thin air standing out in the open and holding his modified Prototype Rivet Gun down at his side.

Almost instantly, a hail of gunfire erupted from the surrounding buildings as the resident Splicers fired their crudely repaired and modified revolvers and Thompson Submachine Guns at the projected decoy. Naturally, regular, non-magnesium phosphorus coated bullets are invisible to the naked eye when they are flying through the air due to the supersonic speeds at which they are traveling. However, the "flash", the bright cloud of light that erupted out of the end of a firearm's barrel as the gases propelled the projectile downrange, was easily visible even in low visibility environments.

I counted eight individual flashes in the buildings surrounding the courtyard. Three were in the partially demolished upper floor of the building on the far left. The characteristics of the reports of their weapons indicated that one was wielding a revolver while the other two were wielding modified Thompsons chambered for .50 BMG rounds. One flash was coming from the second floor of the Clinic from the hole in the side of the building where a gangplank connected it to the King Pawn building. Its report indicated that it was a revolver. The remaining four flashes were coming from the roof of the Clinic underneath the overhead section of bent railroad track. The reports indicated that they were all wielding modified Thompsons.

Before the Splicers could realize that they were being tricked, Alpha took aim with his Rivet Gun and fired upon them. Again, I marveled at my brother's marksmanship with the repurposed industrial tool. He did not waste a single rivet as he demonstrated the lethal trigger control discipline and pin-point accuracy that had taken him ten years of hellish fighting for daily survival to achieve.

First, he took aim at the Splicer inside the clinic and fired a single rivet through the opening in the wall. The report of the revolver ceased and he directed his attention to the Splicers on the roof. He fired four rivets in quick succession and succeeded in neutralizing the Leadhead Splicers. The courtyard feel silent as the decoy vanished and the remaining Splicers retreated into the buildings.

They would not fall for the trick again but the tactic had cleared out some of the Splicers. It was now safe enough for us to enter the courtyard at least. As I moved away from the corner and towards the clinic door, Eleanor chirped, "Look Daddy, an angel." I followed the firefly-like tendril of light and saw the contorted body of a male Splicer between where I was and the far left building.

The corpse was just before where the train car had penetrated the concrete slab of the "floor" in the center of the courtyard and continued down into the underlying layer of pipe networks. A discarded bicycle was off to the left of the body though I was unable to discern if it had belonged to the poor man. My gut told me that it was unlikely that the man had been riding it at the time of his demise because the thick layer of bloodied, white bandages wrapped around his lumpy head would have made it very difficult for the man to properly operate the bicycle.

I mentally sighed. I hated to turn people's addictions against them as if I was some immoral businessman, but I did recognize the opportunity to draw out even more of the Splicers from the buildings. A gathering session in the middle of the courtyard would bring them scouring out of their holes and into our deathtrap like moths to a flame. Besides, the Little Sister was most likely exhausted but was politely remaining silent because she wanted her "Big Sister" to have some more fun with her Daddy.

As I moved towards the corpse, Alpha switched ammunition types and then began to set up a defensive line of Trap Rivets on the strange structure nearby by placing a vertical line of rivets in the corners of the structure to cover the left and right path to the corpse. The pool of water around the train car would provide a lethal environmental trap for any Splicers that managed to get through Alpha's Trap Rivets along the left side of the structure.

Upon reaching the body, Eleanor asked with her edged Little Sister voice, "Right here, see it glow?" I bent down onto my right knee and she lowered herself down onto the wet concrete floor beneath us. In her typical, innocent manner, the little girl excitedly danced next to the corpse as she pointed towards it with her tiny left hand.

She beamed up at me as she tried to say something to me. However, her childish voice was drowned out by the sudden torrent of music that piped through the Public Broadcast System of The Drop. Seconds later, Grace addressed the Splicers, "Family! That monster has taken another one of our children for his own! Tin Daddy is hollow like a jail cell that needs filling and he will never let her go unless you hunt him down!"

As my charge inserted the needle of her gathering tool into the corpse, I felt the molten hot fury of my Protector Instincts blitzing into my mind as the monster inside of me demanded to be released from his cage once more. The area before me was bathed in red light as my golden yellow eye changed into its hellish red. I let out a deafening guttural roar as the first small-caliber round impacted my right shoulder.

Agony swept through me as more rounds impacted my frame and penetrated the less armored canvas sections of my suit. As the red fluid in my First Aid Reserve Tank repaired the damage, I swiveled to my right to exact my revenge on my assailants. There, I saw a male business suit-clad Leadhead Splicer armed with a revolver, a disfigured female Leadhead Splicer armed with a pump action ornate shotgun, a male working class Thuggish Splicer armed with a section of lead pipe, and a female Thuggish Splicer that was clad in what remained of a middle-class dress and wielding a rusted red pipe wrench. In my limited peripheral vision, I saw two more Thuggish Splicers jumping down from the roof of the King Pawn building. Music continued to play through The Drop's Public Broadcast System as the deranged addicts desperately rushed towards us to get to the Little Sister.

Meanwhile, I heard a man yell from inside the Clinic with a voice that had an air of self-righteous superiority, "Stupid! Fucking! Clods! That's what the Metal Daddies want! Shit!" However, his cried fell on deaf ears. The cannon fodder Thuggish Splicers mindlessly rushed straight into the Trap Rivets on both sides of the strange structure. The rounds fired their secondary projectiles into the unarmored flesh of the denizens as they attempted to rush through the beams of light.

In the space of three seconds, the Thuggish Splicers had been cut down by the Trap Rivets, but, in doing so, had cleared the paths to our charge for the remaining Splicers. As the remaining Leadhead Splicers encircled us as if they were sharks closing in on a wounded whale, I heard Eleanor reciting a poem with her Little Sister voice.

"Roses are red…"

I blasted the Leadhead Splicer wielding the pump action shotgun with a shot of Electro Bolt and then rushed forward. As the blue electric arcs danced around the woman's frame, I thrust the razor sharp point of my heavy-duty drill straight into her forehead. The sound of cracking bone filled the air as her face seemed to deflate from the force of my blow. The ornate shotgun fell to the cracked concrete floor beneath us before the corpse crumpled into a heap next to it.

"…Violets are blue…"

The high-pitched report of Alpha's modified Prototype Rivet Gun filled the air as he fired a smoldering rivet into the male Leadhead Splicer's skull. The ADAM in the man's system allowed him to survive the otherwise fatal blow but, as he staggered away, my brother fired a second rivet into the back of his neck where his spinal cord and skull met. The Splicer was dead before he hit the harsh concrete floor.

"…Daddy's **MINE**..."

"…**NOT **for you…"

A female Thuggish Splicer jumped down from the partially demolished building behind us. Alpha started to turn to eliminate her but stopped as he was suddenly hit by a RPG that had been fired by a woman that had appeared above us on the third floor gangplank between the Clinic and the King Pawn buildings wielding a makeshift launcher. Luckily, as with the crudely manufactured launcher, which was made out of thin sheet metal and a wooden handle, the soup can grenade was more flash and sound than it was dangerous and, thus, my heavily armored and spliced brother easily weathered the explosion.

"…If, by chance, you are a **WHORE **that forgets your place…"

I revved up my drill and then Drill Dashed into the charging Thuggish Splicer as she neared my beautiful master. The sound of metal and flesh colliding filled the air as the brutal collision shattered the woman as if she made out of glass. I sneered with satisfaction as the mangled corpse flew backwards before it smashed against the hull of the train car.

_'Weak…so weak…you disgusting pieces of trash are hardly worth my time.'_

"…I will take my fist and smash your face…"

"…You deserve it for being naughty…"

The Splicer fired another grenade at my brother but he caught it in the air before him with Telekinesis. As his left gauntlet-encased hand was surrounded by the clear miasma, he levitated the primed explosive before him for a moment and then launched it back at the Splicer with a flick of his wrist. The explosive flew towards the denizen and detonated against her. The resulting explosion shredded the Splicer and showered the area with her bloody remains.

"…I will **KILL YOU **and consume the blood from your still warm body."

As she finished her poem, she stood and then inserted the needle of her gathering tool into my tree trunk-like left leg. I let out a low, rumbling roar as I felt the wonderful sensation of fresh ADAM flow through my body. The warm, empowering feeling was second only to the sensation of being near my beautiful master in terms of pleasure and satisfaction. With each drop that entered my body, I could feel myself becoming less of the human man that I had once been and more like the beautiful goddess that I now swore my entire being to protect and keep happy.

With our gathering session complete, calm was restored to the area. I felt the artificial fury of my Protector Instincts recede into the farthest reaches of my mind while the area before me was once again bathed in golden yellow light as my segmented eye changed its bioluminescent display back to its default "mood". I had not seen my true, human eyes in so long that I could not remember what color they were. In fact, I could not even remember what my human face looked like. The emotionless copper and glass of my armored diving helmet were my face and eye now. They had to be. Monsters did not fear Johnny Topside. However, they did fear Subject Delta.

Eleanor smiled brightly up at me for a moment before she turned to look at Alpha when he approached us. She motioned towards him with her gathering tool to offer him the remainder of its reservoir's contents. However, he shook his free left hand at her as he grunted, "Much obliged, but I have enough ADAM in my system already, Miss Eleanor."

My master turned back to me and smiled contently before she informed me with a tired tone, "I'm ready for dream time, Daddy." I smiled slightly beneath my face and bent down onto my right knee to allow her to climb up onto her throne. She giggled in a distant manner as she moved towards me as fast as her fatigued limbs could carry her. After a moment of shuffling and letting out grunts of exertion, she tapped the top of my head with her tiny left fist.

She giggled and then ordered, "Take me home, my brave knight." I laughed with a rumbling groan as I stood back upright. Confident that we had struck a devastating blow to the Splicers in the buildings, I turned my back to them and began to make my way towards the Little Sister Vent at the base of the stairs to our right that led up to the area surrounding the Fishbowl Diner. The long-winded moan of a wandering Rosie Mass Production Model vibrated through the air from somewhere else in The Drop as I neared the vent.

Upon reaching the vent, I noticed for the first time that there was a Crème-Filled Cake resting on the right side of its round, projecting base. Another offering for the Little Sisters? I had to hand it to Sofia, she certainly had the poor, broken denizens of Rapture under her spell. What was she doing with all the ADAM that the new Little Sisters were gathering?

A sudden, chilling thought occurred to me. Eleanor. No, Sofia was not that reckless. Surely, she was not pumping Eleanor full of ADAM. As my master had informed me, the slug implanted inside of her was still alive and, if anything, its ADAM-producing capacity had only increased since I had been killed. Eleanor was already absorbing massive amounts of ADAM from the slug. If Sofia was adding to it, then she was more deranged than I could have ever imagined.

The being that Eleanor would become if I did not stop Sofia in time would either be the salvation of mankind or the harbinger of its extinction. She would be immortal due to the slug and would be incalculably powerful because of all the ADAM. Big Daddies like Subject Alpha, Sigma, and myself would be nothing more than specks of dirt compared to her. Even the new Big Sisters would be nothing more than footnotes compared to Eleanor.

I cast the idea aside. No. Sofia was not that foolish. She was definitely planning something else. After all, she had to be aware of the, now hardwired, homicidal rage that Eleanor felt for her that had first stemmed from the mistreatment that had she endured as a child and then was forever cemented as rage when Sofia murdered me in cold blood right in front of her. There was no way that the psychiatrist believed that Eleanor would not hesitate to return the favor if ever she was given the opportunity.

"Hidey Hole…"

The edged voice of my charge tore me from my thoughts. With the Little Sister Exorcism Plasmid ready, I bent down onto my right knee once more. The Little Sister dismounted and I stood back up. As I turned to face her, I saw that the telltale sign of Eleanor in her glowing yellow eyes was gone. The trusting child glanced from me to the vent and then back at me. She flashed me a confused expression and then asked, "Pa-Papa? I-I was a g-good girl. Did I make you mad?"

I cringed slightly as I felt my heart tighten painfully. This Little Sister was afraid of me just as the first one had been. If they were suspicious of their loyal protectors, I could only imagine the torment that afflicted their young minds. Tenenbaum was right, we had to end the Rapture Nightmare before its evil spread to contaminate the entire world in a never-ending cycle of ADAM-addiction and evolution.

That was why Tenenbaum had called upon those of us in the Alpha Series to end the nightmare. She knew something that Sofia and the rest of what remained of Rapture would not learn until it was too late. I smirked darkly as I envisioned Staudegger and his Tiger I devastating the Goliath-like force of Soviet T-34s with her powerful and accurate 88mm main gun as shells mercilessly pounded her armored hide. Sofia would be the last person to learn that there was nothing more vicious than the underdog.

I grunted reassuringly as I gently placed my glowing left hand on top of her head. The young girl moaned as the Plasmid caused her veins to become visible beneath her pale skin as they glowed with white light. Moments later, a white flash overtook my vision. When it returned, I saw the "rescued" Little Sister smiling up at me with a look of happiness in her normal brown eyes.

I offered her my free gauntlet-encased left hand to help her into the vent. Leaving her gathering tool on the ground, the child accepted my offer and I carefully picked her up underneath her right shoulder. The ex-Little Sister giggled as if we were playing a game as I lifted her up to the opening of the flower-shaped vent. Then, without a word, the little girl disappeared into the safety of the Ventilation Network.

The familiar feeling of surreal bliss filled my entire being as my vision was overtaken by the sight of my grown master in her adult-sized white dress. Eleanor smiled slightly before she informed me, "_She says thank you, Father._" The dark brown-haired goddess moved closer until she was only a few inches away from me. Then, she added, "_You should see Mother's face right now…_" I became uncomfortable as she pressed her left shoulder into my chest and raised her head up to look at me with her deep blue eyes as she leaned in until her face was only inches away my own.

I knew that what was happening was not real, but I still could have sworn that I felt the heat given off by her ADAM-enhanced frame. My body betrayed me as my arms instinctively wrapped around my grown charge to hold her close. I berated myself as my hands moved along her body and I discovered, with primal excitement, that the white dress that she wore had been very effective at concealing how well developed and feminine Eleanor's body was.

However, along with her sensual femininity, I also felt the formidable strength and power that her toned frame possessed. I felt a bead of sweat run down my neck when she moved in response to my hold and I felt her muscles tighten and flex beneath my hands. I realized that, without question, she already possessed physical strength that rivaled my own despite her much thinner and innocent appearance. The notion that she needed me to be her Big Daddy Protector was instantly dispelled upon the revelation of the extent of her strength.

However, I still turned my head away when Eleanor tried to kiss me. Intense guilt flooded my mind as I sensed the hurt that she felt. When I looked back, her captivating eyes were shinning as if she was about to cry. My master pleaded, "_You promised that you would try…please._"

I cringed as it felt as if a molten hot piece of metal was suddenly thrust into my skull. My Big Daddy Programming sought to prevent the taboo act of affection while my genuine feelings for Eleanor sought to comfort her. Mustering all of my willpower, I fought against the conditioning forced upon me by Fontaine's butchers. It was easily the most challenging foe that I had ever encountered but I finally managed to suppress the interfering mental programming enough to regain control over my body.

Sensing the torment that I was willing to go through for her, Eleanor began to cry happily as we both leaned in and then kissed each other. In the brief second that her soft lips connected with mine, my mind was bombarded by the intense onrush of sights and sounds from her memories as I felt the true extent of her feelings for me. I had been so clueless that it was almost sadistically comical.

Then, just as quickly as it overtook me, the feeling of surreal bliss was gone and I was back standing before the Little Sister Vent. However, not before I heard Eleanor say happily, "_Thank you…I love you, Father._" I grunted aloud in my Alpha Series voice, "I love you too Eleanor."

I turned and saw that Alpha was patiently waiting off to my left. He informed me, "Emily and I...we couldn't help it...just happened...only thing that has kept me going all these years…given me something to fight for…if that makes me a monster, so be it. I could have just left…I have not been physically tied to Emily since they turned her into a Big Sister…but...she's all I have left. I am not leaving Rapture without her, sir."

I assured him, "We'll get them out...all of them."

He was silent for a moment and then he remarked with a humorous tone, "At least the egghead is still alive."

I smiled slightly as I realized that he was referring to Sigma. I grunted in response, "Maybe there are others."

I began to move towards the Clinic. Behind me, Alpha commented, "Maybe…" My earlier suspicions were confirmed as we were unopposed by Splicers as we moved out into the open. I made it to the locked Clinic entrance and entered the code that we had found in the diner. Giving off a slight dinging noise, the vandalized doors opened and I began to make my way into the building.


	14. Chapter 14: USS Torrey

Ch. 14: U.S.S. Torrey

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

I apologize that there is no graphic Big Daddy awesomeness in this chapter. Also, you are going to have to bear with me in this chapter because it is a flashback of the man who eventually became Subject Delta. It outlines his past from his days in World War 2 up to the day he discovered Rapture in the diving bell.

It centers around a (fictional) Fletcher-class destroyer and her story during the war. It is basically The Dirty Dozen meets Moby Dick.

I know you are all going to be like, "WTF? What do we care? Where is the BioShock-ness?" Trust me, this chapter is important for explaining why my Delta acts the way that he does.

After this chapter, I promise no more major flashbacks and nothing but Subject Delta and Alpha being badass and Eleanor being Eleanor xDDD

Bear with me on this one chapter and we can all look forward to the next one.

Read and review if you want.

* * *

As I entered the Clinic, I was struck by the lack of looting. On the right edge of the check-in counter before me, I saw several unopened brown bottles of Dr. Hollcroft's Cure-All that were still neatly arranged as if they were patiently awaiting the customer that would purchase them. Meanwhile, three unopened boxes of bandages were still sitting on top of the small medical cabinet along the right wall.

The advertisement posters to my left and beyond the counter were now obscured by the grime overgrowth on the walls. Meanwhile, on the screen of the television monitor at the top left edge of the wall beyond the check-in counter, I saw another image of what to be Alpha.

The black and white image was a close shot of the upper front an Alpha Series that was wielding a Rosie Mass Production Model Rivet Gun. At the bottom of the image was the phrase, "Shoot on sight". Again, there were inaccuracies in the picture that caused me to question when exactly the image had been taken. It was clearly a security camera image so I doubted that it had been recently taken.

Therefore, it had been taken before my demise. The model of the Rivet Gun was troubling to me. It might not have even been of Alpha as he rarely parted with his Prototype Rivet Gun. Therefore, it was most likely an old image of an Alpha Series that Lamb and her followers had found and distributed in an attempt to give the rest of Rapture at least a general idea of what to attack.

How far was Lamb truly willing to go in order to keep Eleanor and I separated? For that matter, what was her reason for wanting me dead? After all, as an Alpha Series Big Daddy, being killed was merely an eventuality and I had made peace with that a long time ago. I felt no anger for her. However, while we were comparable to the mighty German Tiger I, we conducted ourselves in the manner of the too ill-fated Japanese Samurai.

Death before dishonor; intelligence before brute force, composure before compulsiveness, etiquette before heathenism. All of these things were our code. We showed mercy and avoided violence as much as possible. However, when we were left with the only option of lethal force, we _respectfully_ eliminated that threat. If, however, said threat intended to cause ill on our daughters or a Mass Production Little Sister, then they deserved no mercy or restraint from us.

Naturally, there was some bias on our part. We considered the Mass Production Model Protectors to be inferior to us because they were our antithesis: slow, lumbering brutish beasts. Outsiders considered us to be the "same thing". However, we were no more the same than night and day. Those monstrosities lived by no code. I would hardly even consider them to be living creatures as they were more machines than men.

What was beneath those diving suits? Even I did not know. It was true that those monstrosities had once been the maintenance workers of Rapture. The lethal level of atmospheric pressure found at the depth at which Rapture resided caused the original builders to fashion or modify suits that were unlike anything found on the surface.

However, as time passed, the health of the maintenance workers began to deteriorate at an alarming rate. Even in pressurized suits, human beings simply were not adapted to life at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. I was not around at the time but I heard about what happened to the poor individuals from the other maintenance workers of Dionysus Park. They told stories of men broken from the inside out. Their organs would be reduced to mush. Their minds would be driven mad by the pain for which death was the only answer.

Naturally, as the stories about the fates of the workers got around, the labor force for the maintenance of the city began to dry up as the number of willing individuals decreased. With the supply of laborers short, Ryan turned to Sinclair for individuals. Eventually, though the process was unknown to me, the men, most of them being the maintenance workers, were "grafted" into those suits and somehow reduced to mindless brutes that lived only to serve. The result was a drone army of highly resilient and inhumanly strong workers that lumbered about as they maintained the infrastructure of Rapture.

That had been their original purpose. It was only later that they were reconditioned to be protectors. Hollow, broken wrecks of men parading around as if they were fathers. The thought nauseated me beyond imagination. Monsters with no souls could not be fathers of the most important beings in all of Rapture. I would sooner leave them in the hands of Sofia than I would with them.

As for Sofia, I suppose that she did indeed have reason to fear me. Part of the Bushido Code was that revenge was not only honorable but was also expected of a true samurai. However, was that the example that I wanted to set for my daughter? It took a brave individual to stand up for one's self, but it took an even braver individual to simply walk away. Violence only leads to more violence and I did not want the sickness of Rapture to follow my daughter to the surface. I needed to show my daughter how to deal with her problems without resorting to violence. It was my duty as her father to prepare her for the world that awaited her on the surface.

Moving forward past the counter, I proceeded towards the staircase that was just past the waiting room. Beyond the landing, I saw a Little Sister Vent mounted into the green tiled wall. As I neared the landing, I heard a male Splicer let out a broken, sadistic laugh from what sounded like the top landing of the staircase. Turning to my left to face the stairs, I saw the male Splicer dressed in a tattered business suit and with a heavily deformed face and groin area standing at the top landing looking down at me. The denizen cackled and then kicked the red barrel in front of him towards me.

With my left gauntlet-encased hand surrounded by a miasma, I raised it up in the air out in front of me as I willed the incoming object to halt in midair. Then, before the man could react, I launched it back at him. The barrel exploded on contact and the Splicer howled in agony as his burning frame flew backwards through the air before smashing into the wall just beyond the landing. I began to ascend the worn concrete steps that had metal strips along their edges.

Upon reaching the landing, I heard the telltale mechanical whirling of a security camera. I retreated momentarily and then cautiously investigated the clinic area of the second floor. Mounted to the wall next to the exit that led to the partially demolished building across from the clinic, I saw the camera. Just before its beam of light could reach me, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into its metal frame.

The surge of electricity shorted out the unprotected electronics of the camera and the device drooped straight down while its light failed to emit from the eye-like opening on the front. From behind me, Subject Alpha fired a round into the teardrop-shaped device. However, upon impacting the slightly rumpled metal hide of the camera, the rivet merely penetrated the outer layer. Seconds later, I saw what appeared to be a radio antenna emerge from the exterior of the rivet. A small green light appeared on the tip of the antenna and, seconds later, the camera powered back on but, instead of a red light, it was casting a green light.

Without looking at my brother, I remarked, "Interesting device…"

He grunted in response, "Just a small scrambler and a transmitter. Blocks the camera's connection to the rest of the security system and then tricks it into thinking that the system has labeled us as targets that are to be ignored."

I asked in a series of grunts, "Can Sofia re-hack it?"

The Alpha Series Protector explained, "Never thought of that, sir, but I guess if she really wanted the camera, she could have someone take it apart and remove the hack rivet. The system thinks that it is destroyed though."

I grunted in acknowledgement and began to make my way into the second floor clinic. However, as I did, I heard the alarmed chirp of a sentry turret and managed to sidestep behind the cover of the open doorway that connected the two operating rooms. The sentry turret was on the roof of the pawn shop and its 30-06 rounds sprayed the interior of the operating room beyond ours for a moment before the device paused as it started to scan its surroundings.

Taking advantage of the pause, I moved out into the open once more and blasted the sentry turret with Electro Bolt. As the M1919 Browning drooped towards the ground, Alpha fired a Hack Rivet into the sentry. When the turret powered back to life moments later, the red light of its lamp was replaced by a green light.

I asked, "Why a green light?"

My brother let out a brief series of laugh-like grunts before he explained, "It was Christmas a few days ago and I wanted to do something festive for Emily."

I laughed with my own series of repeated grunts in response. Seeing no point in investigating the pawn shop or the remainder of the clinic, I instead turned and began to make my way across the makeshift bridge to the partially demolished building across from the clinic, coming within inches of the collapsed train car. The metal and wood of the makeshift path groaned loudly in protest as it struggled to support my heavy frame but it held together long enough to allow me to reach the opening in the side of the nearby building.

Upon entering the building through the demolished hole I found an El Ammo Bandito vending machine just across from the entry point. I turned to my right and, at the end of the unfurnished hallway, I saw a Power To The People machine mounted to the far wall. Feeling as if I was a kid in a candy store, I rushed towards it while thinking of the next upgrade I could give my drill. The augers had increased the damage that it could deal. The lubrication system decreased fuel consumption as well as added an unpleasant surprise for its victim in the form of the salt in the seawater that I was using as the fluid. What was left?

Remembering my near fatal encounter with Comstock and Elizabeth, a thought occurred to me. The history of warfare was centered around the immortal battle between offense and defense. Whenever one became dominant, the other evolved to counter it. My deathmatch with Comstock had been the proverbial collision between an unstoppable force and an immovable object. However, my philosophy of an overwhelming offense had nearly gotten me killed because of that "energy shield" that Comstock possessed. Only my heavy armor, first aid system, brute strength, and, of course, the aid of the monster Subject Delta had been my salvation.

Faced with a strong defense, my normal tactics were notably less effective because, aside from my thick copper armor, I had a less effective defense to reply with. With the recent addition of Plasmids, I now had a greater offensive potential but I was still lacking in defense. My armor would not save me from everything, especially now that I was facing much more formidable foes. I needed a new, equally formidable defense to reply with.

My drill could function as the power source for a portable shield. I was no engineer but I did know that hydroelectric power stations used the force of water to turn a shaft, which, in turn, created electricity through a coil of copper wire. Examining my drill, I saw that there was an open space just beyond the augers and lubrication nozzles at the very end of the bit. Not the ideal amount of space, but I could make due.

The cliché idea of an "absorbing" energy shield was comically absurd. I would need something more along the lines of an air mass that did not "absorb" incoming objects but rather repulsed it back the way it had come. However, I was faced with the reality that what I had in mind would need equipment found in a lab, not the ruins of Rapture.

I scolded myself for being so pessimistic. If Comstock had gotten one from the world that had archaic automatons armed with ancient crank-action Gatling guns, I could make my own here in this scientific wonderland. All I needed to do was build my own generator and electromagnetic dynamo. Even children could make them.

_Come on, old man. You saved your home off Okinawa. You can certainly do this!_

Suddenly, I heard Eleanor ask through our link, "_What happened at Okinawa?_" I mentally grimaced. I had never told the story to anyone because I doubted that anyone would believe it. The official navy report did not reflect what actually happened due to the fog of war. It was so fantastic of a story that there was no way that anyone would believe it.

My daughter assured me, "_I'll believe you, Father._"

Perhaps, it was time to tell the story. To keep her story secret was an insult to her sacrifice. I started, "_Fletcher-class destroyers…they were the backbone of the American Navy during the war. They were only 2,500 tons at full load but they became legendary for being able to absorb punishment that should have easily proven fatal. Like all destroyers, they were always in the front line taking the brunt of the Japanese attacks along with the cruisers and auxiliaries while the precious fleet carriers and battleships got a great view of the action from their hiding places. The Fletcher-class had a 14% mortality rate and was second only to the mortality rate of all of the American submarines combined. I served aboard one named U.S.S. Torrey._"

I paused and then continued, "_Torrey was the misfit of the Fletcher-class…no sponsor for her launching…no one volunteered to command her…poor girl became a joke…a black sheep…she was never listed in the Navy Inventory. Navy decided to assign all the problematic service men to serve about her. I voiced my personal disagreements about how we were treating the native-born American-Japanese service men to the point that I was accused of treason by the bigot that I had as a CO. My superiors gave me a choice: certain death by execution or slightly less certain death by serving aboard the U.S.S. Torrey. Told me that, if I survived my tour of duty aboard her, my treason would be conveniently forgotten. Same deal for our captain…Captain McConnel…though we all called him Ahab…like the character from Moby Dick…because he was either insane or the greatest man alive depending upon who you asked."_

I continued, "_Navy told us that we were considered expendable and gave us assignments that reminded us of that fact such as undocumented solo patrols deep into Japanese-controlled waters…solo shadowing of Japanese capital ships...a solo nighttime raid on the heavily fortified Naval Base of Truk while the monster battleships Yamato and her sister Musashi were there in the lagoon…solo commerce warfare against Japanese merchant ships and other targets of opportunity…and there was that time that they sent us all the way into the lion's den by having us perform hit-and-run naval bombardments of the Japanese Mainland along the coastal targets of Kamaishi, Muroran, Hitachi, Nojima Saki, Shionomisaki…nearly got broadsided by that battleship Nagato there…Hamamatsu, and Shimizu to test the Japanese Coastal Defenses for the planned Invasion of Japan._"

Eleanor asked with skepticism apparent in her British-accented voice, "_I was with you until that last one, Father. You have to understand my disbelief about that one. How did a single Fletcher-class destroyer pull that off?_"

I explained quickly, "_We came at them from the north after hugging the Alaskan coastline. No one expected a lone destroyer…especially not from the north. The closer we got to the mainland, the safer we were. After all, the enemy is supposed to be 'out there', not in your backyard. We took refuge in a small lagoon that was in an isolated part of the northern island and waited for nightfall to make our move. While we were anchored in the lagoon, we painted her entire hull as black as night, dismantled her searchlights and anything else that was reflective, painted over her hull identification numbers, took down her 'colours', and 'anything that was not nailed down' was thrown overboard. It was intended to be a suicide mission so the Navy wasn't too specific as to how we went about our mission as long as we radioed threat assessments 'as long as we were alive'. Nighttime arrived, and we made our move...blasting the Japanese with our 5-inch guns like a roaring hellion. They did not take it well. By the time that we had completed our bombardments, we had nearly the entire Imperial Japanese Military chasing us._"

My daughter asked, "_Where were you going?_"

I laughed slightly and then replied, "_Anywhere but there. Escape was never part of the plan so we did not have a destination. Well…completely by accident…it happened to be typhoon season. With the Japanese chasing us and with our fuel tanks nearly bone dry, Ahab ordered for flank speed, relieved the ensign manning the ship's wheel, manned it himself, and then steered the Torrey straight into the heart of the storm._"

I heard Eleanor gasp and paused for a moment. Then, I continued, "_It was surreal like something out of Moby Dick…the flashes of lightning…Torrey climbing up the mountains of water or being completely submerged only to rise back to the surface on the other side of the wave…we could hear our captain singing Anchor's Away up on the bridge…so we all joined in with him._"

Now becoming lost to my memories, I continued, "_The eye was overcast…I remember…I remember…we…we were submerged for what seemed like an eternity before we came out from beneath a wave with the bow nearly perpendicular with the ocean and pointed towards the sky…there before us was a seemingly endless series of circular cloud bands filled with flashes of lightning…a few of the bolts of lightning struck the sides of our bow as if the heavens were reaching out for us…for a brief second, I thought that we had all died and Torrey was sailing into the gates of the afterlife. I felt like I was looking up into the face of God. Then, our bow fell back to the surface of the ocean and I knew that we were still alive. Torrey had lost most of her AA gun mounts, all of her deck railing, all of her life boats and motor launches, all of the depth charges and their launchers, her torpedo launcher, and her radar antenna...but we made it through. The Japanese that had followed us into the storm didn't make it. Of course, we had expended the last of our fuel so we were dead in the water._"

Eleanor, sounding like a child in awe of her father's stories, asked, "_How did you make it back?_"

I explained calmly, "_There were three hundred and twenty-nine of us aboard her. You would be surprised how fast a 2,100 ton destroyer can sail when a large group of men are swimming behind her and pushing her along while someone is steering with the rudder. We did it in shifts of nearly one hundred men swimming behind her and rotated every few hours…of course, the captain swam with every shift._"

Eleanor asked, "_You didn't call for help?_"

I explained, "_No fuel…no power. No power…no calling for help. Used up the emergency diesel generators to run the pumps to get the water out of her from when we were submerged those times during the storm. Even if we had been able to, no one would have come. Our mission had been intended to be our last and was so secret that no one outside the higher ups knew that we were out there. We were on our own._"

I paused briefly and then continued, "_Black-painted steel gets very hot under the Pacific Sun so we cooked fresh fish for food. Rained nearly every other day so we had fresh water. Too hot to stay below decks for long so we spent most of the trip on her upper decks. We estimated our location using the stars the first night and then used the ship's compass to stay on course._"

I paused and then continued, "_Nearly a month later, we sailed into Pearl Harbor. Our captain yelled at the tugs from the roof of the bridge, '…to the last we will grapple with thee; from hell's heart we will stab at thee; for hate's sake we will spit our final breaths at thee,' when they approached to guide us into a mooring spot. Our gunners aimed at them with our 5-inch guns to show them that we were serious. We didn't need them or the Navy that had sent us to die. We had charged through the Gates of Hell and teased the Devil himself, had faced the full might of Mother Nature and laughed in her face, and then returned home using nothing except the sweat of our brows…not a fucking scratch to show for it. No, we didn't need anyone. Working together, all three hundred and twenty-nine of us jumped over the side and then guided her into her birth._"

I finished, "_We climbed back aboard our home, we were used to climbing up those rope nets so it only took us seconds to do it, and then presented ourselves to the world in our clean dress uniforms as the proper, well-disciplined military navy crew that we were. Didn't feel right to disembark…not after what we had been through...so we refused to leave our home even when we were ordered to so that the girl could be dry-docked for repairs and repainting. Finally did when jarhead marines invaded our home and forced us off at gunpoint._"

Arriving at the Power To The People machine brought me back to the present. I placed my drill into the slot, noting that it was more difficult to remove my drill from its mounts this time due to the salt residue build-up. I would need to be mindful to prevent the mounts from fusing solid, and, thus, making it nearly impossible to remove my drill.

Amongst the miscellaneous items in the machine, I found a large coil of raw copper wire, magnets that appeared to be from decorative wall and refrigerator magnets, and a section of metal pipe. Smirking beneath my emotionless face, I began to wrap the coil of copper wire around the section of metal pipe. Moments later, with my makeshift generator housed in a slightly protective metal housing, I focused on the shaft design. Perhaps a gear train? That would be more fragile considering where it was going to be housed, but it would be more practical than a straight connection.

Seeing a large circular band with diagonal grooves extending out from its surface, I snapped it in half, placed it over my drill's bit in the open space, and then used my Incinerate! Plasmid to melt the band onto my drill. I found a small gear amongst the scrap pieces of metal and used Incinerate! to fuse it to the shaft of my makeshift generator. The large drive gear turning the smaller gear would give the system weak torque but excellent speed. I was going to need all that I could get.

Despite their somewhat mythical reputation, electromagnets were nothing special. Essentially, they were simply a metal, such as iron, that, when supplied with electricity, became magnetic, hence, electromagnet. Seeing an iron bar amongst the scrap metal, I broke it into several pieces and then placed them in the small slots between the augers. With my entire drill being made of conductive material, I connected the end of the copper coil to its industrial grade steel alloy surface.

Observing me, my brother commented, "Sir, you have lost your mind and I hope you never find or get it back." Laughing with my Alpha Series voice, I mounted my drill back into place. Hearing the broken ramblings of a female Splicer from somewhere above us, I smirked at the prospect of testing out my design. I turned to my left and ignored the mummified corpse of a man that was at the bottom of the stairs with dried blood all around him as I moved to look towards the landing of the top of the stairs.

There, at the top landing, I saw a disfigured woman in a tattered formal dress with a broken bunny mask over the left side of her face. In her gloved right hand, she held a rusted, crudely repaired Webley revolver. Upon seeing me, the woman screamed, "Animal!" She aimed her revolver at me, but I raised my drill and then revved up its powerful motor.

As my drill's massive bit turned, a glowing cloud of electricity appeared around the pieces of lead and the Splicer's small caliber rounds were repulsed back through the air, though I was unable to send them back into her own frame. Nonetheless, the Splicer panicked and started to retreat. However, my brother dropped her with his modified Prototype Rivet Gun before she could flee.

I smirked beneath my face at the success of my design. Granted, it would only work as long as I had fuel to power my drill, but it was still going to be an unpleasant surprise for anyone that got in the way of getting to my beloved Eleanor. Through our link, I felt my master's surge of pride for my achievement. However, I mentally flinched when she asked, "_Okinawa, Father?_"

For a brief second, I could smell the acrid smoke, feel the cooking of my skin, and hear the agonized cries of my brothers-in-arms. The "pop-pop" of the AA Bofors mounts with their dual barrels, the mechanical clunking of the AA machine gun fire, the mighty thunder of Torrey's 5-inch guns that rattled our bones and souls as if she was reassuring us that she was still very much alive, and the roar of Japanese aircraft surrounded me as I looked towards the rear of my burning home from the rear observation platform just aft of 5-inch gun mount #3, which was jammed aiming at ninety degrees to starboard. Behind me, the heavily damaged, burning section of the ship was a quarantined zone that no man was to enter until we could finish repelling the "Massed Kamikaze Assault".

In my right hand, I held the communication link to the Emergency Steering Room below decks up to the right side of my head as I guided the ship through the onslaught. To my left and right, the two AA Bofors mounts and their crews were coordinating their fire at three incoming Zeros that were screaming towards us from off the portside of our stern. Meanwhile, before me, 5-inch gun mount #4 was manually firing at the explosive-packed Japanese Kamikaze Patrol-Torpedo boat that was racing towards us from off the starboard side of our stern. Finally, 5-inch gun mount #5 was hammering away at the flight of Japanese "Betty" bombers that were flying towards us from dead off our stern.

With the smoke obscuring the view from our bow, and with Torrey's forward armament neutralized, we were now steaming full speed in reverse or "Back Emergency" in order to force the incoming Japanese to face the mostly operational armament of her aft section. I waited as I watched the flight of Zeros and Bettys close in on us. A large explosion off our starboard dramatically announced the end of the PT boat following a direct hit by the gunnery crew of gun mount #4.

With bared teeth and an expression of pure hatred, I glared at the incoming aircraft. Through my clenched teeth, I growled, "That's it you squinted-eyed bastards...come and get us." As gun mount #4 was manually rotated by its crew to aim at the flight of Bettys, since the Gun Fire Control System was offline and currently a burning hulk along with the bridge we had to manually coordinate our fire using sailors that acted as runners between the mounts, the Bofors AA guns succeeded in downing two of the incoming Zeros. Their flaming, broken corpses fell towards the surface of the ocean trailing black smoke.

However, there was still a Betty and a Zero screaming towards us with their throttles wide open and their radial engines roaring as if they were banshees. Our gunners put up a barrage, literally surrounding our home with a near continuous cloud of airbursts and red hot lead. Such was our furiosity that even our battleships would have been envious of our display of firepower. Hell bent on taking us with them, the bomber and the fighter forced their way through our protective fire.

Refusing to leave my home except as a corpse, I screamed at the incoming airborne menace, "Towards thee we sail, thou all-destroying but unconquering Tojos; to the last we grapple with thee; from hell's heart we stab at thee; for hate's sake we spit our last breath at thee!" Though normally calm and collected, I was in a state of emotional distress and could only feel primal fury at the individuals that sought to destroy my home. In a way, the _U.S.S. Torrey_ had become our "white whale". To our dying breaths, we were going to defend her. We did not expect anyone else to understand our feelings.

Seconds before the two aircraft crashed into us, I yelled into the communication link, "Left full rudder!" Due to the fact that we were going in reverse, the ever nimble Torrey began to turn sharply to the right. With only seconds to react, the Japanese pilots failed to remember where each other were and corrected the course of their aircraft to adjust to our new heading. The two aircraft collided in midair above us, showering those of us above deck with pieces of shrapnel. I failed to feel the piece of metal imbed itself into my left arm due to the numbing effects of the adrenalin.

The much larger Betty decimated the lightweight Zero but the smaller fighter managed to push the bomber off course just enough to send it crashing into the sea just inches off our starboard side. A victorious war cry went out amongst those of us above decks as our morale hit a fever pitch. I had to cup my left hand over the communication link so that the Emergency Steering Station could hear me as I ordered, "Rudder amidships."

"_Father?_"

Riled from my somewhat forced recollections, I replied, "_Hmm…?_" Remembering where I was and seeing the shocked look on my beautiful daughter's face through our bond, I felt a wave of shame wash over me. Reaching out to her, I said, "_El…I…I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to see that._"

However, she surprised me by reaching out herself and taking ahold of my hands with her own. Having expected revulsion, I was caught off guard when the dark-haired goddess said, "_Johnny, I am so sorry that happened. I did not mean for you to go through that again. If you want to keep it to yourself, I understand. I am just so curious about your life on the surface._"

I smiled slightly before I assured her, "_No, it is okay, kid. I don't mind telling you the story. At least, someone will know it._"

I paused and then began, "_Following our successful return to Pearl Harbor, the Navy had seemed to have run out of ideas for assignments to get us killed. The damage to Torrey was entirely superficial. Structurally, she was as sound as ever. Economically, her repair was justified. Aside from putting our captain in the brig for threatening the tug boats, they could not think of a way to justifiably punish us for our display of defiance. We had not technically committed any wrong doings and we hired a stoic JAG lawyer to get the charge against our captain dropped. He had defended our captain, and us, by making a strong case that our defiance was merely a defensive response of a crew that 'had become so physically and mentally exhausted that they could not be held accountable for responding to a perceived threat to the vessel that had become their refuge in a time of great spiritual crisis'. Ol' Ahab had then pointed out to everyone present at the hearing that Torrey's ammunition stores were exhausted as the assignment had required and, thus, he had never intended to attack the tug boats as we did not have any means to do so._"

Eleanor asked, "_Why did the Navy hate you so much?_"

I explained, "_They did not hate us, Eleanor. We were simply that elephant in the room that no one wanted to be reminded of._"

Releasing her hands from mine, Eleanor asked, "_You said 'her sacrifice' earlier but you also said that you saved your home…what happened to your ship, Father?_"

I explained, "_Torrey was repaired and repainted just in time for the operation off Okinawa. Ever alone, we sailed from Pearl with orders to join the assembled Task Forces operating within the waters of Okinawa. Got there...hell on Earth before our eyes. It looked like the entire island was burning. Deemed ever expendable by our superiors, Torrey was routinely sent right into the meat grinder to provide close-range naval gunfire on hardened targets that were positioned to be more resistant to the high arcs of the big guns of the battleships. Took a large hit from a Japanese gun near the southern end of the island that struck Torrey near gun mount #3 and put a hole the size of a 2 and ½ ton truck through the bottom of her hull. We repaired it with a large metal plate and about a ton of concrete that we traded one of the supply ships for some premium whiskey and cigars from McConnel's own personal stash. Gun mount #3 was deemed to be in need of a mechanical overhaul as it had worn out its bearings due to inadequate lubrication for the upgraded 5-inch turrets that we had received at Pearl. We also needed a permeant patch for the hole. So, we requested permission to put in for repairs, but our request was denied._"

My daughter asked, "_Why?_"

I shrugged before replying calmly, "_Expendable._" Eleanor was silent so I continued, "_Eventually, the Navy's focus turned to the sky and we were redeployed as part of the radar pickets encircling the island. The heavily armored battleships and cruisers could not be 'overly risked' of course so the lighter destroyers and amphibious landing ships were assigned the highly dangerous task. There were fifteen 'stations' in the circle. Most groups consisted of a destroyer and two landing ships. However, Torrey was assigned to a remote grid without any support because intelligence indicated that another station needed the extra firepower more than we did as the Japanese were more likely to move through that sector than ours._"

I sighed as the first feeling of tightness arouse around my neck. There was no going back now. I continued, "_We had heard the stories…kamikazes they called them. Deliberate self-sacrifice…wholesale sacrifice of more than a thousand men by using their aircraft, boats, and even rocket-propelled manned bombs as weapons against us. Sixth of April was when it all started. Old, obsolete Japanese aircraft came at us in groups of hundreds at a time…of course, the destroyers and escorts in the radar pickets were the first targets encountered by the young pilots so we bore the brunt of the initial waves._"

The tightness around my neck intensified but I continued, "_Fucking bunko…they darkened the skies with their numbers…we knew we couldn't stop them all…not enough rounds between our five 5-inch naval guns, our ten twin-mount MK 12 Bofors 40mm AA mounts, and our six single and seven twin 20mm Oerlikon AA mounts…that didn't stop us from trying though. Captain kept requesting additional support but the Navy just kept sending a supply ship to replenish our ammunition and fuel reserves. Of course, while our sister ships got the new radio-frequency proximity fuse anti-aircraft 5-inch rounds, we were given the older rounds. Superiors kept informing us that 'all available support was occupied and unavailable'. That was how it was…day after day…first light to dusk…we stood alone against the onslaught…our entire world reduced to the few square miles of our assigned sector._"

The tightening worsened and began to spread to my face just behind my eyes but I continued, "_Groups of ten…then five…then twenty…then three…then fifty…it was unpredictable how many we would see in a wave. That was what scared us the most: you did not know what to expect the next time. Wasn't just kamikaze though, and that is what ultimately proved near fatal for us. A few of the aircraft deployed were traditional hit-and-run attack planes. We couldn't get them all and a few managed to limp back to their base. When the Japanese High Command learned that one of the American defensive lines only consisted of a lone Fletcher-class destroyer, they shifted focus to us. If they destroyed us, they would have a wide-open window to attack the carriers and battleships without being detected until it was too late._"

I sighed and then continued, "_Ahab radioed an urgent report informing command that our sector was in dire need of reinforcement because the Japanese had discovered that we were the only vessel in the area. However, due to losses such as our sister U.S.S. Bush on the sixth, command had diverted available reinforcements to those sectors as they deemed the threat there to be more immediate. We expected our captain to send back a vulgar response but he did not._"

Noticing that I still had Eleanor's complete interest, I continued, "_Instead, he acknowledged their response, excused himself to his quarters, and then returned to the bridge wearing his clean, white dress uniform. He relieved the ensign manning the ship's wheel and manned it himself. That's where he stayed until…what happened. He did his best to keep our spirits up even though we could all feel it coming. He had upbeat music played over the ship's intercom system, joked and talked to any crewmember that wandered up to the bridge instead of reprimanding him for not being at his post, and even allowed us to use the ship's radio for sending personal messages. I don't think that any of us slept that night_."

My throat had tightened to the point that I could barely breathe. However, I needed to tell this story. Someone had to know it. I did this not for myself but for my brothers and for the _U.S.S. Torrey_, the unwanted Fletcher-class destroyer that had done everything asked of her and more, survived assignments designed to destroy her with ease, faced the might of the Imperial Japanese Military and Mother Nature herself with the heart of a battleship but with the bold furiosity of a destroyer, and faced her ultimate destruction with the same calm elegance as had the noble warships of old.

I began, "_It wasn't even light yet when Torrey's radar alerted us to the first wave of attackers. Suddenly, the light atmosphere was gone. The music stopped. General Quarters was ordered, the bells sounded through the intercom as Ahab addressed us, 'Gentlemen, our glory comes for us! Seize it! It is yours! To the last we fight! Not for patriotism; not for orders; not for medals; for each other! For your brothers, men! For Torrey! Let not the colours be struck unless to strangle the emperor himself! I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast; for I intend to go in harm's way! Gentlemen, it has been **my **honor to command you! To your stations! God have mercy on our enemies!_'"

After pausing, I continued, "_Sounding as if we were primal beasts, we roared in acknowledgement of our captain's final order as we flawlessly moved to our stations. The watertight hatches slammed shut throughout the ship. The sound of hydraulics filled the air around the ship as her mighty 5-inch naval guns came to life. The cocking of machine guns joined in with the orchestra. Torrey began to plow through the still, dark waters of the early hours as she increased to flank speed. Guided by the ship's radar, our Gun Control System directed all five of our main guns to bear on the incoming threats off our starboard as our captain brought her perpendicular to them. It was a classic maneuver known as 'Crossing the T' and it forced a ship's assailants to face the entire might of her main armament. For a moment, all was peaceful in the universe. Nothing could be heard except the calming slap of the ocean against Torrey's hull. We waited in eerie silence for the signal of the beginning of the end for us. Then, all hell broke loose._"

Thankful that this was all happening in our link and, though it seemed like hours to us, it was actually happening instantaneously in the real world, I continued, "_Erupting like volcanoes, our main guns opened fire on our unseen enemies, temporarily blinding those of us above deck with their bright flashes. To our initial surprise, it was not airbursts that we heard next, but rather the sounds of water splashes and then a singular explosion. The illumination provided by the cloud of flame on the horizon highlighted the black silhouettes of five small boats as they continued moving towards us head-on despite the recent demise of one of their own. The Japanese had attempted to catch us off guard and use the cover of night to sneak in close to our ship with their torpedo boats, damage us with their traditional armament, and then finish us off with their onboard explosives before we could raise the alarm to the rest of our ships._"

"_Clever._" Eleanor commented with a trace of approval in her voice.

I laughed with my weathered human voice before I replied, "_Not clever enough to fool Torrey's radar._" Then, I continued despite my tightening neck, "_Within minutes, the nimble, wooden-hulled torpedo boats succumbed to our 5-inch guns. Our victory was short-lived as one of our lookouts reported an incoming fan of enemy torpedoes that were coming from off our port. Torrey easily dodged them in time by pulling a hard left rudder. Over the ship's intercom, we heard our sonar room report a faint contact that was directly in front of us. Our searchlights went into action and the ocean around us became illuminated as if we were the Sun itself. There, less than one hundred yards in front of Torrey's bow, was the outline of a Japanese submarine that was motionless with its periscope just barely exposed above the surface of the ocean._"

I smirked slightly before I said, "_Ahab sent Torrey in a full-speed charge and plowed into the submarine as it attempted to dive. The impact sliced the submarine in two and the last that we saw of it was the two halves plummeting towards the bottom. Nearly half an hour later, just as the first rays of sunlight had appeared, radar indicated a massive airborne threat coming in off our starboard side. Moments later, the chilling sight of nearly one hundred Japanese aircraft appeared on the horizon. As our 5-inch guns thundered their response, we could hear our radio operator requesting friendly fighter cover. However, command replied that all available fighters were being prioritized elsewhere but that a flight would be sent within six hours. We heard our captain reply, 'Hear me, thou who send us to our deaths! We wish upon thee a most painful death! Thou may have finally bested us, but thee shall not bask in your success for long as the lord's judgment cometh, and quickly too!_'"

"_No offense, Father, but where did the Navy find your captain?_"

I laughed sadly before I replied, "_Yes…quite an interesting character, wasn't he? Don't be so quick to judge, my daughter. Captain McConnel was an unfortunate victim of time. See, he was one of the last low-ranking officers that had served in World War One. He had been a very young man at the time…served aboard one of the first American Destroyers…back then, destroyer duty was about as miserable as it got in a navy. Destroyers were originally coastal defense ships that were never intended to be ocean-going. However, World War One…that all changed. Still smaller than nearly any other ship, the new generation of destroyers were steel coffins. Trial and error…trial and error, Eleanor…that is how things worked back then. McConnel once said that he had ten friends going into destroyer duty but none when the war finally ended. Experiences like that change people._"

Eleanor nodded sadly. I continued, "_Life after the war was most unkind to McConnel. Depression hit, no jobs…especially not for a former captain of a naval destroyer. Time had forgotten men like McConnel, men who had served their country in the most brutal of conditions not because it was 'the thing' to do or because they sought fame but because no one else would. Until December 7th, 1941…out of unimaginable tragedy came one final chance for an old man. Ridiculed by new officers and alienated by his own generation, McConnel was eventually assigned to a destroyer that was arguably a bigger black sheep than himself._"

Eleanor was silent for a moment and then asked, "_What happened to him?_"

I sighed deeply before I continued, "_Having been abandoned by our superiors, we resigned ourselves to fighting on to the last man. For several hours, we managed to stay one step ahead of the poorly equipped and inexperienced Japanese. Our experienced gunners, the firepower of our five naval guns, and our captain's skilled maneuvering prevented the kamikaze from inflicting any damage upon Torrey. Around midday however, gun mount number three, having needed overhaul for several days, finally gave out when the worn out bearings seized. The turret was jammed at nearly ninety degrees to starboard, and while it could still fire, it could not be properly aimed. The opening in our defenses was just enough for a Zero to get through and impact Torrey in the side of gun mount number two._"

I had to stop for a moment and compose myself before I said, "_The turret was destroyed and the crew inside were killed instantly. Worse, the spilled aviation fuel ignited a raging inferno that began to spread to gun mount number one. As part of the Damage Control Team, I went with a group to rescue the men trapped inside the first turret and extinguish the fire before it caused further damage. By the time we got to them, the gun crew were dead men walking, but we still pulled them out of the burning turret. Captain reduced speed to prevent fanning the flames...the diner bell had been rung._"

Eleanor's eyes began to shine slightly, causing me to ask, "_You want me to stop?_" She shook her head stubbornly. I continued, "_Seeing Torrey burning, the Japanese became emboldened. Fighters came in off our bow and began to strafe us as we tried to extinguish the growing blaze. However, the threat of the fire reaching the magazine storage below the two guns far outweighed the bullets fired from inexperienced pilots. Below decks, crew members began to relocate the remaining powder and shells to the aft guns. I had to move back towards amidships when the fire hose got caught in its own reel housing back near the bridge. Turns out, that pain-in-the-ass reel housing saved my life because seconds after I reached it, the round in gun mount number one cooked off and detonated inside the turret. The resulting chain reaction destroyed the turret and killed all of the men that were on the bow._"

I scratched the back of my head, noticing the feeling of hair, and then continued, "_New fires broke out on the bow and the smoke completely obscured the pilothouse. Captain never saw it coming. A 'Val' dive bomber carrying a thousand pound bomb beneath its belly came in at a high dive. The AA mounts could not see the bomber due to the smoke until it was too late. I remember running aft and looking back just in time to see the dive bomber impact the front of the curved pilothouse, as Torrey was a first-generation Fletcher-class destroyer she had the original 'Round-bridge' as opposed to the later 'Square-bridge', and penetrated into the bridge. Moments later, the thousand pound bomb detonated deep below deck. The explosion violently rocked the entire ship and I was thrown off my feet._"

"_When I regained consciousness, I found myself prostrate on Torrey's deck. When I got to my feet, I found a smoke-filled hell on Earth. Looking behind me, I saw the remains of the bridge. The entire structure was a burning pile of twisted metal. There was a huge hole in the rounded side of the pilothouse. There, I saw the unbelievable sight of Captain McConnel in his white dress uniform standing in an open spot between the walks of fire. Through the hole, he looked down at me and brought his right hand up in a salute. Then, as he continued to salute me, he disappeared inside the growing walls of fire, never once losing that expression of pride and honor on his worn, Sun and sea beaten face._"

"_Making my way aft, I came upon a Damage Control Team. The men looked at me. I saw that they needed guidance. I said, 'Set up a fire line with the foam.' That would prevent the fire from spreading aft. As they were doing that, I went aft to the rear observation tower. There, I found that the sailor that had been manning the station had been killed by a strafing Japanese fighter. I heard the Emergency Steering Station talking through the communication link. They stated that Ahab had transferred control of the ship moments before communication with the bridge had been lost. I nearly cried. McConnel, sensing his end moments before the Val had hit the bridge, had given us command of the ship so that we could save her even with his absence._"

"_I was going to ensure that his loss was not in vain. Picking up the communication link, I yelled, 'Emergency Steering Station, Captain McConnel is dead. I am assuming control of Torrey. Do you copy?' They replied, 'Affirmative. What are your orders?' Believing that Torrey was mortally wounded, the majority of the Japanese began to fly towards our main fleet. Only a few Zeros remained in the air around us. The inexperienced pilots flew in formation rather than separately. They would be easy prey if we could coordinate our fire. Unable to see what was in front of us, we needed to engage the Japanese from the rear. I ordered, 'Back emergency!'_"

"_That was how we survived for the next two hours. Steaming full speed in reverse, we were able to force the Japanese to engage us on equal terms. Later, a wave of slower Betty bombers appeared. They must have been expecting Torrey to be at the bottom because they came in at the worst possible angle to attack us. Only gun mount number four and five were fully operational so we coordinated fire with sailors acting as runners. Another Torpedo Boat arrived on the scene, possibly to finish us off. We managed to destroy the boat, the last of the Bettys, and the last of the Zeros._"

"_There was a pause for nearly an hour afterwards. During that time, we managed to get the fires extinguished. The thousand pound bomb punched a hole in bottom of our ship but we patched it with a steel plate and pumped out the water. Radio was gone. Pilothouse was gone…never found the captain's body. About that time, another wave appeared. Five 'Val' dive bombers, ten Zeros, and five 'Kate' torpedo bombers. Seeing us without any apparent damage and sailing under our own steam, they believed us to be a different destroyer and brought their entire formation to bear against us._"

"_I was able to steer Torrey from the pilothouse since we had extinguished the flames before any permanent damage could be done to the wheel. We plowed through the ocean at flank speed. Our engineers removed the safety valves from our boilers and we were able to sail at nearly forty-five knots. About fifty of our burliest men gathered around gun mount number three and managed to use brute force to turn the turret so it could contribute to our AA fire. Managed to dodge three torpedoes, four bombs, and five kamikaze Zeros. But…finally, nearly two hours into the fight, the last two 'Kate' bombers managed to score torpedo hits on our starboard side with one amidships at the base of smoke stack number two and one aft between gun mount number three and four._"

"_Torrey began to list but we refused to let her sink. My brothers inside the flooding compartments, rather than rushing to save their own lives, selflessly sealed themselves inside their stations and used their last few breaths to patch the holes in our home. They stayed at their stations and they died there. A kamikaze Zero impacted Torrey topside amidships between the smokestacks and destroyed the 40mm AA guns there along with their crews. The fighter's aviation fuel ignited fires but Damage Control teams managed to get them contained quickly. Zeros strafed us and killed some of the gun crews but sailors came up from below decks to replace them. Our 5-inch guns ran out of AA ammunition so we started shooting 'Star' flare rounds at the Japanese. The flashes were enough to drive off kamikaze pilots and the rounds that did manage to hit the aircraft ignited fires along their frames._"

"_Took another kamikaze and three more bomb hits before finally, late in the afternoon, a friendly group of American corsairs appeared…though they were chasing a flight of Zeros and merely happened upon us by accident. By then, we had less than one hundred men that were still alive. Had to reduce speed to keep from blowing the boilers. We were nearly out of ammunition for everything…in fact, several of us had retrieved the small arms that we had aboard and were using the .45 caliber Thompson Submachine Guns and M1911 semiautomatic pistols against the Japanese aircraft._"

"_An hour later, two of our sister Fletchers arrived to 'take survivors'. They were going to scuttle Torrey…command had deemed our home to be 'economically beyond repair' from the reports of the corsair pilots. We did not have a radio anymore so we used the signal lamps to tell our sisters, 'Fire upon us and we will return fire. Refuse to abandon ship until she is shot out from under us. We will take whatever supplies you can spare until the supply ship arrives.' They signaled back, 'Supply ship is not coming. Command has ordered for your ship to be scuttled. Our hands are tied Captain McConnel.' We replied, 'Captain McConnel is dead. Scrapping the bottom of the barrel in fuel and ammunition. Torrey is seaworthy and we refuse to abandon our home. You are going to have to kill us since your hands are tied.'_"

"_About that time, a final wave of Japanese planes, nearly fifty in total, appeared. Our corsairs had returned to their carrier so we were on our own. The three of us opened up with everything we had. About an hour into the fight, we ran out of ammunition in the 40mm but we still had ammunition for the 5-inch and 20mm guns. One of our sailors discovered some spare 5-inch AA rounds that were still left in the forward magazines so a group of men began to transfer them to the aft 5-inch guns. One of our sailors armed with a Thompson managed to bring down one of the attacking Zeros. One of our sisters took a torpedo to her screws and rudder. We set up a protective circle around her along with the other destroyer. A flight of American hellcats arrived an hour later and drove off the remaining Japanese._"

"_We signaled our immobile sister, 'Do you wish for us to take your survivors and scuttle you?' She signaled back, 'Point taken. Can you rig for towing?' We replied, 'Can do.' We towed our sister back to the main fleet while the other Fletcher stayed to patrol the station. On the way back, we passed two landing ships that command had sent to reinforce the Fletcher that had relieved us. I guess we embarrassed command when we appeared towing one of the Fletchers that they had sent to scuttle us. A tanker topped off our fuel and we towed our sister back to the mainland in a convoy of supply ships that needed to return for supplies. During the trip, we hit a storm and the tow line snapped. We lost track of our sister in the confusion and we couldn't use our radar to locate her. That was the last anyone heard from her or her crew._"

"_We arrived at the mainland and the Navy had Torrey slated to be scraped. The ninety-five of us were told that we had completed our end of the bargain and we had our records cleared. However, we put all of our money together and demanded to buy Torrey from the scrapyard. The Navy refused so we got a JAG officer involved. He argued that the United States Naval Research Laboratory was in need of a new ocean-going research platform and Torrey would be perfect because most of her topside equipment needed to be replaced anyway and it would be cheaper to simply modify the Fletcher-class destroyer into a research ship than to build a purpose-built vessel from scratch. Not only that, but Torrey also already had a crew that was well versed in her operation. The Navy, wanting to be done with us once and for all, agreed and transferred ownership of Torrey to the NRL. She was repaired and modified and spent the rest of her days as a research vessel. I went on to become a navy diver and was welcomed back with open arms when I transferred back to Torrey when I completed my training and certification._"

Eleanor asked, "_What happened to her?_"

I replied honestly, "_I don't know. Torrey was the ship that we were using to test the new diving bell in 1958 to investigate the unusually high losses of ships in the North Atlantic off Greenland and Iceland. I heard her getting attacked by Ryan's thugs and lost communication with her afterwards. What happened to her after I lost communication with her, I do not know._"

Eleanor was silent for a moment and then said, "_I'm sorry Father._"

I smiled slightly before I assured her, "_It is not your fault, kid. Besides, I got you in the bargain._" I saw her cheeks flush red briefly, causing me to smile. Then, I informed her, "_I will see you soon, Eleanor. I promise._" I felt our bond fade and returned to the real world.


	15. Chapter 15:Meeting of the Apex Predators

Ch. 15: Meeting of the Apex Predators

A.N.:

Sorry everyone!

I had this chapter done a while ago but then I thought that I had was too close to what happens in the game. Since the majority of you have probably played through BioShock 2 many times over, I don't want to insult you by having a walkthrough. For those that have not played through the game, I do not want to ruin it for you.

So, I rewrote the majority of this chapter to throw in some surprises :)

In this chapter, Subject Delta is introduced to an enemy that is even more deadly than a Big Sister.

Anyway,

Sorry again! Now that midterms and Spring Break are over, I can get back on the "two week" update schedule so that I can alternate between my F.E.A.R. story and this one ^^

Also, I cannot thank everyone enough for the support that you have given this story! Really, I don't know what to say other than thank you.

Read and review if you want :)

* * *

As I moved up the stairs, I inexplicably allowed myself to fantasize about what kind of life would be awaiting us on the surface. In truth, it had not been the paradise that I feared Eleanor believed it to be. The power vacuum left by the Axis Powers had been filled by arguably a much greater threat to personal freedom and "democracy" than Hitler, Mussolini, and Hirohito ever could have been.

Joseph Stalin. Even the name was enough to send a shiver down my spine. I had met the man in person once shortly after the war. I saw that look in his eyes. I had seen the same look in Andrew Ryan's eyes years later. Dead just as a shark's eyes. Not broken like the eyes of the poor husks in Persephone. No, there was iron will and intelligence in his eyes but they were so devoid of warmth and compassion that the stories about the man suddenly did not at all surprise me. I knew then why it was said that Stalin was the only man that Hitler ever feared.

In a way, Hitler and Stalin were Andrew Ryan and Frank Fontaine. Both were so committed to their own self-interested goals that they were willing to sacrifice everyone else around them in order to accomplish said goals. Stalin had been so ruthless in the war that it had in fact been a woman that had hoisted the Communist flag over the Reichstag; not a man. The Soviets later staged the whole thing to save face. Stalin had sacrificed so many of his people in the so called "mass attacks" that the Soviet Union, after 1943, was scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of people to fight the Nazis.

The world that would await us on the surface was, in some cases, worse than the world of Rapture. The sight of a mushroom cloud was in everyone's mind, the United States and the Soviet Union were at each others throats with cloak and dagger, and the rest of the world was caught in the wake of the two giants. In some ways, I preferred the Soviet Union over my old home, the United States.

In my mind, I heard my beautiful master ask, "_Why do you say that, Father?_" By then, I had reached the top of the stairs. Before me, I saw a wall with another advertisement for Sofia's practice. At the far left corner of the wall was the entrance to a small office. The name plate above the door said in gold leaf lettering, "R. Flanagan". Inside the office, I heard the psychotic ramblings of a female Splicer.

Moving towards the office, I mentally sighed and then explained, "_Eleanor, there is something that you need to know about the people that live on the surface._" There were no words that I could tell her to describe what I wanted her to know justice. Instead, I recalled a memory of one of the more unsavory aspects of the surface.

The "snapshot" memory was of a public bathroom located in a city in Georgia in the United States. The clean, white concrete structure was larger than it should have been. Before me, there were two male bathrooms that were side-by-side but never touching despite being in the same building. The open, door-less entrances had a sign next to each one. The one on the left pointed into the open space that was inches away just like the one on the right pointed into its entrance.

By all rights, the two entrances should have been the same. After all, it was just a bathroom. Everyone used it the same way and for the same reason. However, the signs dismissed such ideas of equality. The one on the left had the word "Whites" and the one the right had the word "Colored" beneath their respective arrows.

As I entered the office, I found a small waiting room that was enclosed by a small wall of steel-mesh lined safety glass and grime-covered steel. There was a dirty brown couch against the waiting room wall directly in front of me. Below the couch was the ghostly echo of the former city of Rapture in the form of a discarded, dried-up leather briefcase.

Before I had a chance to react, the bent, rusted head of a golf club impacted the thick copper surface of my face. I turned to see a female Thuggish Splicer clad in a disheveled, torn, mildew yellow dress. Her face was disguised by what remained of a bunny mask. However, I could still make out the lumpy, deformed mass of flesh that had once been the woman's face.

This poor soul had been twisted by more than just ADAM however. I could see the scalpel tracks that had become milky white scars. It looked as though whole sections of her face had been removed as well. I felt nauseous in the seconds that I took in her appearance. This poor woman was a victim of the mad surgeon Dr. Steinman. As I beheld the surgeon's handiwork, I could hear the madman screaming inside my mind, "I want to make them beautiful! But they always turn out wrong!"

The man had become obsessed with aesthetic perfection. Steinman seemed to truly believe that human perfection was a mathematical formula that could be solved through trial and error. Unfortunately, he had taken the "trial and error" part to the extreme, often victimizing citizens without their consent. The man was a surgical genius, I could not deny that. However, he had become obsessed to the point of psychosis. The man had become convinced that the goddess Aphrodite herself was commanding him to create a perfect human being. The combination of ADAM and his own obsession had driven the surgeon absolutely bunko. It would not have surprised me if the lunatic was still up in Medical Pavilion hacking and slicing away at the resident Splicers.

Beyond the female Thuggish Splicer, I saw another woman in similar attire taking cover behind the faded wooden desk that was beyond the waiting room. The deranged woman was wielding a crudely repaired Webley Revolver that had a cracked barrel. I had to hand it to the British, they could make one tough little revolver.

These two women should have felt like the luckiest denizens in Rapture. With a Little Sister not being present, the monster inside of me was more than content with just letting me handle the two Splicers on my own. As the Thuggish Splicer once again swung her golf club, I electrocuted her with a blast of Electro Bolt. As the woman involuntarily shook as electric bolts danced around her deformed frame, I swung my drill into the side of her head.

The Splicer's skull was no match for my brutal strike and my heavy drill succeeded in splitting open the cavity. Letting out a whimper, the woman crumpled to the dirty tiled floor. As her comrade expired on the floor, the Leadhead Splicer rushed forward as she left the relative cover of the desk. Screaming, the deranged woman fired her revolver at me. The .32 caliber rounds seemed less potent now that my health had been increased and my underlying flesh had been reinforced with the Armored Shell Gene Tonic.

Relatively unharmed by the small-caliber rounds, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my gauntlet-encased left hand. As the Splicer cried out in confused anger, I stomped forward and then delivered a lethal blow into the side of her skull with my upgraded drill. Whimpering, the denizen flew through the stale air before colliding with the peeling wall to the right of the desk.

There, I noticed another television monitor that, yet again, had an image of an Alpha Series Big Daddy. This one was taken from behind the protector as he lumbered his way into a section of what appeared to be Arcadia, judging by the lush foliage and the wooden-slat framed walls. At the bottom of the photograph, I saw the message "He is near". I could see that the protector was without a ward and also unarmed. The photograph was therefore likely quite old and from before the Civil War.

The familiar feeling of bliss filled my conscious as pink light painted the edges of my vision. Seconds later, Eleanor remarked with a saddened and confused tone, "_I…I don't understand, Father. Wh-why are there two different bathrooms? The value of a person is who they are…ri-right?_"

I felt a stab of self-loathing as I heard the distress in her enchanting accented voice. It was an ugly truth of humanity that I had exposed her to and I knew that there was no going back for her. I had pulled away the childhood-like veil that her mother and, to some extent, Rapture had put over her eyes and shown her something that was commonplace on the surface.

I replied, "_I'm sorry, kid. I want to prepare you for what you are going to encounter up there. On the surface, people are judged not by who they are but by the color of their skin…that is something that you need to understand. It is disgusting, repulsive, nauseating, and completely unjust…but…it is a fact of life._"

My daughter was silent for a moment. Then, she asked, "_And you…Johnny?_"

I shook my head and then remarked, "_No...of course not. I hate it. It makes me so mad when I think about it that I can't breathe. I grew up in the southern part of the United States, kid. I was around it every…single…day. Even the so called 'religious leaders' were bigots. 'Keep the coloreds in their place,' they said. 'They are racially inferior,' they said. 'It is God's will for the white man to be in charge,' they said._"

I sighed and then said, "_I…there was this black girl…lived near where I did. Our parents couldn't have cared less about us…so…we were all each other had. Childhood friends for all purposes…became more when we got older. She was the first girl that I ever loved. We kept it secret…had to…it was illegal back then...didn't care though, I loved her and damn to what people thought. Then, one day junior year of high school, she didn't show at the little meeting place that we had near the creek in the woods. Went looking for her…_"

I paused in hesitation. However, my master inquired, "_What happened?_"

Dutifully, I replied, "…_found her hanging from a tree._"

Eleanor gasped and then said in an apologetic tone, "_Oh god, I'm so sorry, Father. I didn't…_"

I smiled sadly before I informed her, "_It's alright, kid. I made peace with it a long time ago._"

I continued, "_People are good and bad no matter where you go, kid. Don't get discouraged, you will have a much better life on the surface…I promise. Just, I want you to know what to expect in case…_"

Eleanor startled me slightly as she snapped, "_Johnny don't you dare talk like that! You and I are leaving Rapture together one way or another, that is my promise to you._"

I said, "_Eleanor…please don't talk like that…I can't stand the thought of you dying here in this hole._"

She flashed me a gentle smile before she asked in response, "_You think I feel any different about you?_" I smiled ever so slightly in response. She continued, "_Johnny, I know that I am not prepared for the surface…I would so easily misjudge them…I need you, Father…now more than ever._"

I sighed before I remarked, "_Hate to burst your bubble again, kid, but…I am not some 'master of the surface' or anything. I did not have a notable life outside the Navy. No family other than my siblings and no social friends._"

My master smiled before she assured me, "_Neither do I, Johnny, but we will have each other and that's all that matters. Besides, we will have the others with us as well._"

She paused briefly. Then, she remarked with a frightening, cold tone that was completely devoid of any compassion as her beautiful blue eyes changed to become hypnotic blue pools that emitted unimaginable cruelty, "_Mother is…interfering…again. I will speak to you again soon, Father._"

The feeling of calming bliss faded until it vanished completely. Looking around, I noticed Alpha inspecting the bathroom of the rundown office. As I turned my entire frame in order to look towards the bathroom, I suddenly became aware of a familiar pheromone in the air. The sweet, pacifying scent of a Little Sister that had become harsh and bitter in the aftertaste: a Big Sister.

The lithe, armored mature adolescent was nearby. Furthermore, there was something different about this Big Sister. The protector from Ryan Amusements and the one that had been monitoring us ever since we had entered Pauper's Drop had much sweeter pheromones. This young woman, however, had pheromones that were much more bitter than her sisters. Perhaps she possessed Plasmid powers that were more potent than the one that we had encountered in Ryan Amusements and also the resident guardian of the Drop? If that was the case, then the girl was older and most likely from either the first line of Mass Production Gatherers or she was one of my own brothers' charges.

The latter troubled me greatly. Emily and Eleanor were accounted for. If this former Little Sister was indeed an Alpha Series Gatherer, then there was either another one of my brethren that had survived or, much more likely, there was a broken husk wandering somewhere in the ruins of Rapture.

I could not imagine the hell that my poor brother was in if the Big Sister was indeed a former Alpha Series charge. The compulsive desire for his daughter would be tearing his psyche and his body apart as it would for any proud father that could not find his precious daughter. Worse, an Alpha Series in such a state would be an extremely formidable foe. Unlike Subject Alpha, the Tin Men, and myself, who would fight to the death but only if required, the Mad Daddy would fight with the intention of dying.

My thoughts turned to the Big Sister that was now stalking us alongside her sisters. She could be the "interference" that Eleanor had mentioned. If she was, then Tenenbaum's plan was working. The more chaos that Alpha and I caused, the more obsessed Sofia became with stopping us. The fact that I had seemingly come back to life out of thin air as if I was some incarnation of her greatest nightmare alone was likely deeply troubling for the psychiatrist.

My train of thought was derailed when Alpha commented from where he was directly in front of me, "Sofia sent one of the Elites after us…"

I rumbled back with my Alpha Series voice, "Elites?"

He did a slight posture change because of his inability to nod before he replied, "Yes, sir. There are about seven of them…Emily and Eleanor included…that are former Alpha Series Little Sisters…their bodies have absorbed far more ADAM than their Mass Production Model counterparts…so much that it changed them more internally than externally. You have seen and felt what happened to Miss Eleanor, sir. Granted, Sofia took her case to the uncharted extreme but my Emily and the others are like Miss Eleanor…less human and more like goddesses."

Something dawned on me at that moment: the Big Sister that I had encountered in what was left of the Adonis Luxury Resort. Her Plasmid and physical prowess had indeed been unusually potent. Perhaps, she was one of the "Elite" Big Sisters. I asked, "Do you know their names?"

He replied, "Only two for certain: Emily and Eleanor. One probable: Jennifer. The others I have no idea."

'_Jennifer…_'

A memory of the dirty-blonde, almost brunette, girl's charmingly plain but beautiful face smiling up at me as she waved in a shy but at the same time confident manner briefly entered my mind's eye. If there was still mercy in this world, then Jennifer would still be alive. Such as quiet girl, but staggeringly brilliant. At times, I often wondered if her silence was even due to shyness or instead from her intelligence reducing her desire to converse with "normal" people who could not comprehend the world as she did.

She was a good-natured girl despite her somewhat cold demeanor. If someone bothered to put forth the effort to get to know her, he or she would learn that she was very pleasant to be around. Unfortunately, she was also just as stubborn as she was brilliant. Once she set her mind to accomplishing a goal, she would commit the entirety of herself into the task; often at the expense of her health and those around her. When she was in one of these spells, Lambda, her Alpha Series Big Daddy, would sometimes have to force her to gather ADAM to ensure that she did not slip into withdraw.

I mentally shivered at the prospect that this Elite Big Sister might be Jennifer. We were in for one hell of a fight if it was her. With her ADAM-supercharged body, high intelligence, and borderline obsessive tendencies, she would be brutal and relentless. She would not stop until she killed us both if I failed to pacify her the same way I had the first sister.

With no choice but to continue forward, I let out a low rumble that vibrated the walls around us and then turned towards the exit of the office. Upon exiting the office, I continued down the dirty, blood stained hallway to the far end. However, I paused as I began to hear the familiar sound of deranged Splicers chanting in throaty hums.

Subject Delta and my Protector Instincts began to rile from the far reaches of my mind as I also began to smell the hypnotically alluring pheromone signature of my beloved master. In a trance, I began to thunder my way towards the source of the chanting and my master's pheromones. My surroundings were a blur to me as I honed in on the Little Sister. As the scent became all-consuming of my psyche, the molten hot rage of my instincts began to build.

These people, no these animals apparently could not take a hint to cease their religious bastardization of the precious little girls that they were not fit to beg at their feet. My eye and auxiliary lights began to flash a threatening hellish red as the rage grew to a dangerous fever pitch. Beneath my copper face, what was left of my human face curled its lips up into a cruel sneer.

'_Weak…so weak…being the bitch's puppets...she snaps her fingers and you all bark like good little doggies. None of you are worth so much as one hair on their heads. That fool "Johnny Topside" may pity you rats but I DO NOT. There is no "salvation" for animals. There is no "great reward" for child abusers. There is no "divine intervention" that is going to save you. There is only the Devil's Due…and I have come to collect._'

At the far end of the hallway, there was a demolished exit in the side of the building. There, a gangplank connected the gutted building to the roof of the Clinic. Directly before me on the other side of the gangplank was a Little Sister Vent. As with before, there was a kind of bastardized religious shrine before it in the form of a sacrificial altar that was covered by a blue cloth sheet. Dozens of lit white candles were at the base of the vent as well as "material offerings". Above the vent was a makeshift blue banner with the message, "WE WILL MEET AGAIN", written with white house paint on its surface. On the sacrificial altar, I saw a motionless female Splicer. Around the altar were two chanting Splicers. One was a man in a ripped tan business suit. The other was a woman in a tattered blue dress. Both of them were rising up and down on their knees with their hands raised up into the air.

The Little Sister was in the vent, I could smell her. However, the poor girl was terrified of the Splicers and rightfully so as I could see that the female Splicer was still breathing. The Splicers were trying to trick the girl out of the sanctuary of the vent network?!

Red light bathed the area before me as my eye and two auxiliary lights began to emit their steady hellish red indicator of my "mood" while the maddening rage that had been building inside of me broke loose inside my mind. With the artificial fury of my Protector Instincts in complete control of my mind, I let out a guttural roar that was loud enough to cause a painful ringing in my ears and vibrate the buildings around me. As I did so, I also revved up my industrial-grade drill.

The two Splicers around the altar cried out in both shock and fright as they quickly stood to face me. The male Splicer picked up a section of lead pipe while the female Splicer drew a revolver. The Thuggish Splicer ran towards me with his pipe raised up in the air as .32-caliber rounds were repelled away by my drill's electromagnet dynamo. Letting out an enraged roar, I charged towards the man. Within seconds, I was upon him. Using my momentum and weight, I collided against his soft frame and sent him falling backwards onto the cold, wet concrete surface of the Clinic's roof. His pained cries fell on deaf ears as I trampled him beneath my heavy diving boots while I charged towards the Leadhead Splicer.

As I reached her, I swung my spinning drill to the right and cracked her across the side of her deformed face. The denizen cried out as she landed on the concrete roof with enough force to drop her crudely repaired revolver, which broke into several pieces after I stomped down onto it with my right foot. I stood over her for a second as I powered down my drill's powerful motor and then reached down. Clamping down on the top of her head with my gauntlet-encased left hand, I picked her up off the floor and then held her up in the air before me.

The woman desperately clawed at my left arm as she cried out in fear. Amused, I laughed at her in a series of repeated grunts. I then turned and threw her over the side of the roof between the billboard that was roughly in the center of the roof on the edge and the square concrete projection that was next to where the makeshift gangplank that I had just used connected to the Clinic building. The woman screamed as she flew through the air until she impacted the collapsed Atlantis Express train car. A sick dull thud echoed through the air as the impact snapped the Splicer's back and was followed up by a second one when the corpse landed on the ground three stories below.

Letting out another guttural roar and once again revving up my drill, I wheeled around to face the faking Splicer that was still motionless on the altar before the Little Sister Vent. She wanted to be a sacrifice? Well, it would be wrong of me to deny her wish. Plunging my drill's spinning razor-sharp tip into her chest, I eviscerated the Splicer before she could react. With my drill still inside of her dying frame, I powered down my tool and then violently ripped it out of her. I ignored the blood drops that were rolling down the scratched surface of my segmented eye as I ignited the blue banner above the Little Sister Vent and the bloodied altar with two blasts of my Incinerate! Plasmid.

The crackle of flames and black smoke filled the air as the genetic flames began to consume the cloth. The hellish red light being emitted from my segmented eye and auxiliary lights was replaced by golden yellow as my rage subsided enough for my rational thoughts to regain control of my mind. However, the presence of my Protector Instincts was still very strong because the monster's blood lust remained unsatisfied.

_Get back in your cage Subject Delta!_

_Weak old man…you lack the will to protect the Little Sisters!_

_Like Hell I don't you monster! This is NOT the example that we need to set for Eleanor! This is destruction just for the sake of destruction!_

_Violence is the only way to teach these vermin to leave the girls alone!_

_There is a time and place for violence Subject Delta, and this is NOT it! Get back in your cage! I will let you out when it is time!_

_Very well, old man. I will leave you to it. _

The artificial rage subsided and I continued forward along the roof of the Clinic. Before me was a large square concrete projection in the center of the roof. Beyond it, I saw the telltale moving red light of a Security Camera that was mounted to the far concrete bulkhead. To the right of the concrete bulkhead, I saw a small wooden water tower that had three red fuel drums around its base. Fontaine must have had it installed so that his clinic would still be in business if Ryan cut the water supply with his control over the city's Ryan Industries-owned infrastructure. To the left of the concrete structure, I saw a pitch black tunnel for the overhead rail line that had collapsed.

Keeping in line with the large concrete project to hide from the Security Camera, I moved along the roof of the Clinic in the direction of the King Pawn building. Upon reaching the concrete structure, I moved to the right corner and then waited for the camera's search light to reach its far left extreme. When it did, I emerged from the cover and willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my left hand.

My attack left the device vulnerable long enough for Alpha to fire a Hack Rivet into its teardrop-shaped frame. The change from red to green light indicated that the device was now under my brother's control and we proceeded forward. Before us, between the concrete bulkhead and the water tower was another makeshift gangplank that led to a heavily corroded watertight security door.

We began to make our way towards it. However, as we did, suddenly, a deafening, high-pitched shriek ripped through the air. I wheeled around just in time to see the hellish red light being emitted from the Big Sister's large central porthole before her lithe frame slammed into my armored chest from where she had been secretly observing us in the darkness of the nearby tunnel of the overhead rail line.

The sheer power behind the impact was enough to send both my assailant and I over the side of the roof and down to the unforgiving concrete floor three stories below in front of the entrance to the Clinic. Upon slammed into the ground on my left side with enough force to create a crater, I rumbled out a groan of pure agony as I felt my left humerus, ulna, and radius shatter as if they were mere dinner plates. A fine red mist coated the interior surface of my eye as I coughed up blood when I tried to breathe. A sharp stab of pain that felt as if I was being impaled by a molten metal spear in the left side of my chest confirmed the broken ribs that were now tearing into my internal organs like meat cutters.

My wounds would have easily killed me had it not been for my First Aid Reserve Tank, which almost instantly began to pump its red liquid into my body. However, it meant going through the secondary misery of feeling my bones and organs repair themselves at an unnaturally rapid rate. Within seconds of impacting the floor, my body was in adequate enough condition to be able to fight though it would take a few minutes for it to recover completely.

Meanwhile, the Big Sister landed a few feet away on her hands and feet and then, with unnerving ease, moved on her four limbs as if she was an animal. Rotating herself, she turned to glare at me with her hellish red eye. Her eye remained locked on me as she moved sideways on her hands and feet towards the strange square structure in the center of the courtyard while she growled with a strangely mechanical tone. The enraged Big Sister looked away briefly when she finally stood and jumped up to stand on top of the strange structure.

Something about this girl was different from the other Big Sisters that I had encountered. She was indeed the one whose pheromones I had detected in the office building. However, now that we were in close proximity to each other, I was able to make out that her suit was heavily modified. Most noticeable of the modifications was that the white or light tan canvas had been replaced by charcoal black canvas to allow her blend in with the darkened ruins of the city. In addition, her bulbous head only had the one center porthole that would give away her presence while she stalked her prey, had been manufactured with craftsman-like perfection instead of being crudely cobbled together, and also sported a flat black paint job.

She did not have a basket to transport a Little Sister charge, which meant that she served no other purpose than being a predator for Lamb's Rapture Family. Instead of a large dark grey metal oxygen tank with a bright red wheel-like relief valve on her back, she had a much smaller, skinny, smoke grey tank that was either a modified spare part for one of my own Alpha Series brethren or, tragically, was her own deceased father's right metal lung from his rebreather system that had been re-purposed to work for her.

The small, hollow, square-shaped diving weight that had been just above her right thigh was gone. Instead, the slightly swollen appearance of her torso and the noticeably readjusted brown leather belt-like straps along the front of her still hourglass-shaped midsection indicated that the loss of the diving weight had been compensated by the addition of what was likely chain mail armor beneath the upper body section of her suit.

The sword-like needle attached to her left arm was sporting a different head than the other protectors. While it was still an over-sized needle, I could see that it had been forged from an unidentifiable high-quality steel alloy that appeared to be giving off a soft red glow as its mirror-like polished surface reflected the red light of the nearby train signal lamp. In addition, a barely noticeable discrepancy in the shade of the metal at the tip of the hollow needle indicated that it was tungsten carbide tipped, which gave her weapon greatly improved penetration capability against armored and unarmored victims.

The vaguely bowl-shaped, non-symmetrical metal shoulder pads that had been crudely cobbled together from scrap pieces of steel had been replaced by purposely manufactured, identical, jointed metal pads. The pads accentuated her shoulders so perfectly that they must have been custom fit for her. The joints in the pads granted her greatly improved arm movement and thus greater agility than her sisters.

The cumbersome and restricting leg braces had been completely removed because her legs were noticeably thicker and did not require external support. Her arms were also noticeably thicker than her sisters. She must have been much older than her sisters and was around Eleanor's age. Her body had finished growing some time ago and her ADAM-charged muscles had developed to the point that now she did not have need for leg braces or any other special protective supports as her gangly sisters did.

Her unnaturally potent and unrestricted physical prowess had been demonstrated only seconds earlier when she had hit me with more force than any lumbering Bouncer Tin Man would ever be capable of achieving even with his much heavier frame. The freight train-like impact had been enough to lift me off my feet and send me flying several feet to go over the side of the roof of the Clinic. However, her body was still very feminine.

In the seconds that I had to take in her appearance as she stood upright on the roof of the structure in the center of the courtyard, the only description that came to my mind that could properly label the intimidating mixture of extremely feminine yet extremely muscular build was that she was an Amazonian woman like from those old mythological stories about the race of warrior women. They were said to have only been defeated, once, by the ultimate mythological male warrior: Achilles. Even the great Achilles was said to have nearly died in the battle against the Amazonian queen, who had been dominating the male warrior until the last possible second when Achilles had forced himself to see her as nothing more than another opponent.

I felt Subject Delta's aroused desire for the Elite Big Sister. However, his primal attraction to the goddess-like young woman was purely based upon his expectation of her being a formidable foe that could release his pent up rage, which the weak Splicer population had thus far failed to satisfy.

Through our link, I heard my master comment, "_Johnny, I keep telling you that you are Subject Delta…it is just that mental conditioning that they forced into you._"

As I painfully rose to my feet, the enraged former Little Sister let out another deafening shriek of primal fury while dozens of loose objects ranging in size from small pebble-sized pieces of concrete to the corpses of deceased Splicers began to gather in midair above her. A hail of red-hot rivets began to pelt the armored goddess as my brother fired his heavily modified Prototype Rivet Gun from the edge of the Clinic's roof. Despite my brother's inhuman marksmanship, the rivets did not faze the Elite Big Sister and we both had the horrifying realization that the weaponized industrial tool's rounds were not even hurting the ADAM-forged engine of destruction before us.

I only had enough time to get my armored right foot beneath me before the woman used her powerful Telekinesis to hurl the cloud of objects towards me at incredibly high speed. A chunk of concrete the size of a basketball struck my right shoulder hard enough to shatter the shoulder blade. A rusted section of metal rebar the length of a grown man's leg impaled me through my lower left abdomen. One of the red metal fuel drums that had been at the base of the Clinic's water tower exploded against my chest, shredding me with metal shrapnel and engulfing my body in a fireball. However, I somehow managed to remain upright.

As my flesh screamed from being cooked by the blazing inferno on the surface of my diving suit, the monster inside of me roared at Eleanor, "_Master, if you wish to mate with your precious 'Johnny', LET ME OUT!_"

With the amount of pent up rage inside of me, I was not certain that I could remain in control this time. Horrified, I told my beautiful daughter, "_Eleanor, no! He'll kill her if he gets the chance!_"

The Elite Big Sister front flipped from the roof of the small structure and landed just before me. Her feet had no sooner made contact with the concrete floor before she charged at me with her large needle poised to strike. Ignoring the maddening agony that was racking my body, I finally managed to stand up. I attempted to counter her with my own charge. However, without the aid of Subject Delta, I was unable to match the onslaught of her physical prowess.

The lithe protector halted my charge with a violent full-body collision. While I was temporarily dazed, she recovered near instantaneously and then thrust her needle into my still partially broken and healing right shoulder. A brief, pained grunt escaped me, which caused the diving suit-clad goddess to let out a cruel amused cackle before she violently ripped her needle out of my shoulder. She then took a step back with her unnaturally large right foot before bringing it back forward to deliver a powerful round house kick.

The incredible physical power of the kick was enough to put a shallow, hairline crack in the center of the middle section of my segmented glass eye when the copper sole of the Big Sister's right diving boot struck the upper part of my copper face. The kick sent me stumbling backwards. In a shower of glass and the shriek of bending metal, I slammed into the chained up entrance of the King Pawn building with enough force to collapse the entire section of the building down onto me. The overhead neon letters that spelled the establishment's name, their grimly metal base, a faded advertisement billboard, and two-thirds of the building's concrete roof rained down on top of me.

Effectively buried by the rubble of the mostly demolished building, I was powerless to do anything other than listen to the approaching Big Sister as she moved in for the kill. Meanwhile, I heard a loud crash and then the high-pitched report of Alpha's Prototype Rivet Gun. Despite the choking darkness that had overtaken my body, I realized that my brother had jumped down from the Clinic's roof and was now firing his industrial-grade weapon on the move as he rushed to my aid. However, the Big Sister continued to ignore him as she neared her trapped prey because she knew that his malfunctioning Protector Instincts rendered him as being less of a threat.

For the first time since my demise, I heard the voice of the Eleanor that I had defended with such passion all those years ago. All of her superior, calm demeanor; all of her maturity; all of her confidence was gone as if it had never existed as the goddess-like Eleanor suddenly vanished from existence. I felt her dormant Little Sister conditioning break free from the farthest reaches of her mind and, for the first time in years, took control of her as it had countless times during her childhood whenever she was forcibly ripped from the illusion of her "perfect world".

I had absolutely no doubt that Sofia heard her daughter with her own ears as the physically full grown Eleanor screamed with her robotic-sounding Little Sister voice both audibly and through the telepathic link of our Pair Bonding.

Physically crying, the frightened young woman called out for her Big Daddy Protector, "DADDY! DADDY HELP ME! DADDY I'M SCARED! BAD WORD LADY TAKE ME TO WET SCARY PLACE WHILE YOU WERE X'ING THE EYES OF SPOOKY LADY AND SPOOKY MAN!"

I had just enough time to realize that Eleanor's psyche had been shocked back into the state that it had felt the safest: New Year's Eve 1959 before the gathering session. Confused and without her memories of what happened, Eleanor now mistakenly believed that her mother, "Bad Word Lady", had kidnapped her while I was killing Comstock and Elizabeth. In her hysterical state, Eleanor tried to make sense of what our Pair Bond was telling her but her Little Sister mindset was too ill-equipped to properly process it.

Frightened beyond the ability to be able to decide what to do, the little girl went on her blind faith in me. After all, I was her father and fathers can do anything and always know what to do. I calmly explained to my daughter, "_Eleanor, I know that you are confused and scared right now but I need you to help me. Daddy needs you to be strong right now, okay sweetie? Can you do that for me?_"

Even in her shell shocked state, my incredibly resilient Eleanor calmed herself and nodded her head before she replied, "_I'm a big girl, Daddy._"

I smiled slightly before I said, "_That's my girl. Now, get ready to help Daddy._"

Just as the rubble was suddenly levitated out of the way just enough to allow the Big Sister to see me, my daughter screamed, "_BAD LADY! YOU NO MAKE DADDY AN ANGEL! KILL HER DADDY! KILL HER!"_

A sudden wave of calm purpose washed over me. Instead of the typical, dramatic onrush of the artificial fury of my Protector Instincts as it stormed into my mind, I became consumed by the single-minded desire to do what my beautiful master had commanded without any hesitation or questions asked.

Unaware of what had happened, the Elite Big Sister thrust her needle-like weapon towards the center of my segmented eye. With hardly any effort, I lifted my massive left arm up from where it was pinned beneath an automobile-sized section of the collapsed concrete roof and caught the hollow steel alloy tube in midair when its tip was mere inches from the surface of my segmented eye.

The armored goddess-like young woman let out a strange noise that vaguely sounded like she had rhetorically asked in a confused tone, "W-what?"

Her frame became bathed by hellish red light as my eye and auxiliary lights changed to indicate that I was now in my aggressive state. Absentmindedly observing the object that I was holding with a vice-like grip, I addressed the confused young woman with the patterned grunts of my Alpha Series voice, "Young lady, you should not be playing with sharp things. You might hurt yourself."

Before she could react, I simultaneously pulled down on her mounted needle and used the raw physical strength of my tree trunk-like legs to propel myself out of the rubble as if I was a bat out of Hell. Giving off a loud metal clang and cracking the surface of her eye, I delivered a brutal headbutt into the center of the Big Sister's face.

The tough woman stifled a cry of pain to try to prevent showing weakness as she stumbled slightly. Before she could recover and still gripping her needle, I quickly forced her left arm behind her back, lifted her off her feet, and held her back against my armored chest by pressing the side of my drill into the soft surface of her abdomen just beneath her metal chest plate.

With her back pinned against my chest and in pure agony because I was holding her up in the air by her left arm while it was forced into an unnatural angle behind her back, the Elite Big Sister let out a soft mechanical-sounding whine as she attempted to understand what was happening. Compounding her confusion-based discomfort of the situation, due to the small oxygen tank on her back, we were close enough to feel the intense heat given off the others body through the thinner leather and canvas sections of our diving suits.

As the goddess attempted to get free from my grasp, I whispered into her left ear, "Now that we are on equal terms, let's see if you can hold your own against ol' Subject Delta…or are just a flash in the pan. My master wants me to kill you…but…be a good little girl and help me find release…and I'll let you live. Sound fair?"

The confused young woman let out a brief noise that vaguely sounded like a confession about having never fought a Big Daddy before now. I assured her, "Don't worry about that. First times are always messy. Just do what feels natural." Then, I released my grip on her.

The freed Big Sister ran towards the collapsed train car, dodging Alpha as she did so. The unnaturally physically well-endowed young woman did not even slow down as she ran up the wet metal hide of the train car. Anticipating her lunge attack, I reached down and extracted the section of rebar from the left side of my lower abdomen with my massive left hand. As I pulled it free from my body, the channel that it left behind in my body was almost instantly healed by the miraculous red liquid in my First Aid Reserve Tank. I had seconds to spare so I clenched the rusted piece of metal in the palm of my left hand and superheated it with my Incinerate! Plasmid.

When the Big Sister reached the top of the train car, she compressed herself and then used the raw power of her well-developed leg muscles to propel herself backwards through the air in my direction. As she neared me, she twisted her body around to face forward with her needle poised to impale me once again.

However, when she had turned to face me, she was met by the sight of the molten bar of metal in my left hand just as I threw it at her as if it was a javelin. Unable to stop herself, the Big Sister was powerless to prevent the section of rebar from impaling her through the center of her abdomen despite the chain mail armor beneath her suit. The impact also caused her to land hard on her left side well short of where I was.

I slowly advanced on the downed predator as she let out agonized cries. Suffering from paraplegia because the section of rebar had severed her spinal column, the Elite Big Sister began to rock back and forth by swinging her arms to shift her weight. In the name of sportsmanship, I waited passively about five feet away. The armored young woman managed to roll herself over onto her back and then used a combination of the momentum and the protruding section of the rebar to achieve a pseudo-backflip while she extended her right hand back over her right shoulder.

Now effectively doing a handstand on her right hand, the adaptive woman calmly rotated the rest of her body around her right arm as she glared at me upside down with her cracked red eye. Her inhuman physical prowess was again demonstrated as her right arm was clearly not under any strain in its new role as her only leg and also that she was in perfect balance as if she had been using her right hand as her only foot her entire life.

Clearly not being overly inconvenienced by the paralysis of her legs, the Big Sister propelled herself towards me through the air. Just before she impacted the center of my chest she curled herself into a living cannonball. I was unable to react in time due to my close proximity to her. However, to my surprise, the force of the impact was weak and I quickly realized that it had never been her intention to hurt me.

Instead, the clever young goddess had used the thick copper hide of my diving helmet to push the impaling rebar back through her until the majority of it was protruding from her abdomen and other end was flush with the surface of her back. I could not help but be spellbound as she frantically crawled over to the nearby upright abandoned refrigerator unit after landing at my feet. Dragging herself along the cold wet concrete floor on her right side and propelling herself forward by using her needle, the woman managed to quickly reach the refrigerator.

I remained spellbound as the Big Sister pressed her paralyzed lower extremities flush against the white refrigerator so that she was now facing the large pool of water in the center of the courtyard. Then, giving off a continuous string of heartbreaking pitiful whines, the woman gripped the shaft of the rebar with both of her hands and slowly but surely extracted it from her body by using the refrigerator for leverage.

The area became strangely silent as the whimpering young woman continued to lie next to the pool of water with her back to me. I was still close enough to look over the top of her but she seemed to be in her own world as her arms and legs began to twitch in short bursts. The twitches only seemed to intensify her cries of misery. She dropped the now bloodied section of rebar into the pool of water, which turned the water a light shade of red/green as the Big Sister's heavily ADAM-laden blood began to mix with it, as whatever was happening to her had left her arm muscles too weak to be able to hold the long, thin piece of metal up in the air any longer.

Seconds later, the young woman let out a louder cry of agony that was joined moments later by the sound of sick, wet squelching noises. Looking at the hole in her back, I watched in disgusted amazement as the light from the other side of the hole became smaller and smaller until it was no longer in existence. Instead, a small patch of porcelain-like skin was now visible.

If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I would have never believed that it. I had seen Little Sisters' limbs almost instantly repair themselves. However, mending something as trivial as an arm or a leg was one thing. What I had just witnessed was a section of vertebrae and nerve endings being materialized to replace the lost original bone and flesh with perfectly identical stem cell copies.

The success of the stem cell replacement was confirmed moments later when the Big Sister rose to stand on her feet. The paralysis was gone as she demonstrated the complete recovery of her lower extremities by somersaulting a few feet to the right. When she stopped directly in line with the far watertight bulkhead that led to the Market District, she willed a ball of genetic flame to manifest in the palm of her right hand and then threw it at me.

I almost pitied her ignorance of the nature of my kind as I took control of the fireball with my Telekinesis Plasmid. The Big Sister was clearly surprised by my demonstration of my own Plasmid capabilities. Granted, the heyday of my brethren was gone so it was perfectly understandable that she would have either forgotten or simply had never known that the Alpha Series Big Daddies had been originally designed to permit the efficient wielding of Plasmids, but the abilities themselves were largely absent amongst us, myself included, because Fontaine Futuristics did not believe that it was worth the extra expenditure to outfit us with Plasmids when we were originally introduced to Rapture.

At the time, we were the ultimate weapons of Rapture even without Plasmids so it was decided to simply not outfit us with the abilities because they were unnecessary. It was not until later when the Splicers had become formidable opponents that some of us were outfitted with Plasmids. However, due to our questionable loyalties and what happened to us when our Pair Bonds were broken, Fontaine Futuristics and, later, Ryan Industries instead simply designed new Gene Tonics for us.

Before the Elite Big Sister could react, I willed her own fire blast back at her. The ball of genetic flame hit home in the center of her chest but failed to ignite her frame. She recovered and turned to retreat towards the security door but I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my gauntlet-encased left hand. Ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of fresh EVE being pumped into my body through its intravenous line from my EVE Reserve Tank, I revved up my heavily modified drill and then charged at the immobilized young woman in a Drill Dash.

Seconds later, I collided with her frame in a cloud of metal sparks and the sound of protesting bones. However, I was not weak like that foolish old man Johnny Topside. No, I was Subject Delta: the original and strongest Big Daddy in all of Rapture! I did agree with the old man on one point however. There was indeed a time and place for violence, and this was that time and place.

The vermin inhabiting the ruins of Rapture had been brainwashed by my murderer into believing that these "Big Sisters" were the ultimate predators in this sunken hellhole. I had to "reeducate" the misinformed members of Lamb's little flock that it was not the goddess-like young women that they should fear most. No, I was the ultimate predator in Rapture! Me! Subject Delta! I was the boogeyman for any rat that dared to touch one of the precious Little Sisters! I was the ever present devil that was watching their every move from the shadows. I was the evil that haunted every dark corner of the sunken ruins and the evil that haunted them even in their dreams.

I needed to demonstrate my superiority to even an "Elite" Big Sister in as public and dramatic of a fashion as possible so that the rest of Rapture would take note. As such, I effortlessly held her in front of me with my left hand and continued my thundering charge forward towards the watertight security door. When the worn mechanism of the door failed to open the path in time, I used the Big Sister as a battering ram.

The deafening shriek of bending and tearing steel filled the air as large sections of the door flew forward into the glass and steel framed tunnel beyond. To the right, the tunnel led to the Market District. To the left, it led to the boarded up path to the Sinclair Deluxe. In the center of the tunnel, I noticed yet another abandoned refrigerator unit but I did not have enough time to ponder the reason for the unusual number of the household appliance in Pauper's Drop. Taking advantage of the time that I had spent surveying the layout of the tunnel, the Big Sister caught me off guard with a ball of genetic fire. Though she herself was caught in the miniature explosion, it succeeded in loosening my grip just enough for her to use her own formidable strength to pull herself free.

Turning, she ran towards the watertight security door that led to the Market District of The Drop. Letting out a guttural roar, I chased after her. However, the goal of my pursuit was three-fold. First, I had to fulfill my now shell shocked master's command to kill the Big Sister. Second, I had to do the first in as dramatic and destructive manner as possible to give the followers of Lamb's Family a new entity to be afraid of that was not under the control of their leader. Third, I had to accomplish the first two without completely demolishing the Market District because then we would not have the required ingredients to make the Thermite that we needed to get into the Sinclair Deluxe and finally retrieve the Genetic Override Key from Grace.

Not exactly the circumstances that I had been hoping for to vent my pent up rage and frustration upon the goddess that I was now pursuing. I would have preferred to be completely unrestricted as I romped and stomped but I could make do with what I had been given.

_Damn it, Subject Delta! This is not a game! Remember that the only vital thing here is the Thermite. Everyone has put their lives in your hands. This is only Pauper's Drop…we still have several more stops to get through before we can reach Fontaine Futuristics and we only have a few more hours left before the Fail Safe will kill us both…or worse. Do not ruin everything that Tenenbaum, Alpha, and Eleanor sacrificed so much to make possible by throwing it all away just because you don't get to kill something every five seconds!_

_ Try having a little more faith in yourself, Johnny Topside. After all, you and I are the same person. I am just an artificial personality created by the Protector Instincts that they forced into your mind. I am not controlling you and I never will be able to…you are the one that is controlling me. Have faith in me and I will not let them down…after all, I feel the same way about them that you do. _

_ I will put my faith in you as long as you keep sight of what needs to be done, but you and I are not the same person. Please do not do anything reckless…Eleanor is in a very fragile state right now and she is watching through our Pair Bond. We have to be her rock right now so do not pull another stunt like the one you did against Comstock and Elizabeth._

_ I did what I had to do to keep us alive, Topside! Get off your high horse, I love master just as much as you do!_

_ You…will…never…love Eleanor the same way that I do you monster. Now, just concentrate on not killing everyone…which would mean the world to Eleanor if you do not heartlessly kill her sister as she watches through our Pair Bond. If you truly "love" Eleanor, do not kill that Big Sister, Delta. _

_ Have faith, Topside. Even "monsters" can have hearts._

_ Damn it, Subject Delta, this is not a fucking ga…_

Blocking out the egotistic rants of the old man, I concentrated on the tasks before me. By that time, we had reached the security door that led to the Market District. The aged mechanism of the watertight door cried out in protest but managed to open the path in time to avoid the fate of the other door. Hell-bent on causing the demise of the other, we entered the Market District.

Because we were both apex predators, we both knew that the "survival of the fittest" law of nature dictated that only one of us would be walking away from this final fight. The Market District was a dead end with only one exit so there would be no escape now. I did not want to kill the "sister" of my beloved master but I also wanted to be by my master's side once more.

A thought occurred to me just before we reengaged each other. I smiled slightly beneath my emotionless façade as I realized that this was perhaps the most significant death match that would ever occur in this hellhole called Rapture. It was the proverbial showdown between the old and new evolutionary paths to determine which evolutionary line was truly superior.

Being the apex Big Daddy of Rapture, I represented the pinnacle of the "old" evolutionary line that had dominated Rapture's Evolutionary Battlefield since before the Civil War. Meanwhile, the Elite Big Sister represented the pinnacle of the "new" evolutionary line that had recently evolved into apex predators and were now challenging the Big Daddies for dominance in the merciless game of survival in Rapture's Evolutionary Battlefield.

It was time to find out which was truly the ultimate predator in Rapture: the Big Daddy or the Big Sister.

* * *

A.N.:

Coming soon: Subject Delta vs. Elite Big Sister


	16. Chapter 16: Sins of the father

Ch. 16: Sins of the Father

A.N:

Hey everyone!

Sorry for the wait. It is crunch time at college because of finals.

Anyway,

We learn some more about Eleanor and Delta's past after he arrives in Rapture and just after first being changed into the first successful Big Daddy/Little Sister Pair.

Plus there is the first part of the big fight between Delta and the first Elite Big Sister.

Read and review if you want.

* * *

Upon entering Skid Row, I noted the horrible deterioration of the makeshift market district. Beyond the watertight security door, there was a second large doorframe. However, the open space was now on the verge of collapse. The frame itself had been reinforced with thick, railway cross-tie-like wooden beams that had been driven into the original, crumbing concrete structure. However, that did not seem to have been enough because I saw two enormous hydraulic jacks, one on each side of the doorframe and pressed against the long wooden beam along the top of the frame, that were as tall as I was and just as thick around desperately holding up the collapsing concrete form.

Given the amount of accumulated green corrosion on the brass casings of the jacks, I estimated that they had been there for several years. I grimaced as I saw another large jack through the crudely supported frame. This jack was in the center of the ransacked market area just before the vandalized pharmacy. Placed up on top of a concrete slab that was in an ankle-deep pool of seawater, the jack was valiantly holding up the protesting and leaking roof above it. The decorative collection of steel and glass of a skylight was inches away from where the jack's head was pressed into the cracked concrete roof and was somehow still holding back the enormous pressure of the Atlantic Ocean despite the thick algae and marine growth along its exterior.

Beyond the jack, I saw what remained of the once bustling pharmacy that somewhat resembled an American-style diner with its hollow aluminum structure and rounded walls. Seeing the advertisement banner that was made from a bedsheet, I recalled that the pharmacy was the first location that sold the substance called "Dr. Holcroft's Cure-All". To the left of the ransacked pharmacy, I saw a roaming Rosie Mass Production Model that was slowly making his way to the Little Sister Vent that was on the far side of the sunken lane that was next to the pharmacy and adjoining bookstore. Above the lumbering giant was another makeshift gangway that ran from the second floor residential area on the left to the roof of the pharmacy on the right.

As we moved through the crudely supported doorframe, suddenly, no less than three Splicers ambushed the Rosie by using two electrified harpoon-like tripwires to trap him before throwing multiple homemade explosive devices into his frame. One Splicer, a man armed with a revolver, apparently was the leader judging by how he was barking orders at two women, also armed with revolvers, who had appeared inside the pharmacy from his vantage point in the center of the gangplank. The explosives detonated against the giant's armored frame as clouds of fiery shrapnel. As the surprised Rosie roared in primal fury, his frame was engulfed by flames. Meanwhile, the Splicers began to hammer their victim with a hail of small-caliber gunfire.

The ambush was so brazen that it defied reason. The Rosie did not have a Little Sister companion and the Mass Production Model was in the process of getting to the nearby vent to acquire one. There was little reward in attacking a Tin Man that did not have Little Sister. In my own time all those years ago, the Splicers of The Drop never attacked us unless we had our daughters with us. What could have possibly motivated these three Splicers to attack the heavily armored behemoth?

The enraged Rosie largely ignored the ricocheting small-caliber rounds and the fire eating into his armored hide as he brought his Mass Production Rivet Gun to bear on the Splicers. Taking aim at the man above him, the Rosie opened fire upon the assailant. The loud, thundering report of the Rivet Gun filled the air as the smoking projectiles impacted the man with the force of a freight train. The Splicer quickly succumbed to the onslaught and, dropping his revolver, the man fell over the side of the gangplank. As he tumbled through the air on the way to the unforgiving floor, the man gurgled out, "Shiiiiit."

Wheeling around, the diving suit-clad giant roared at the two women inside the pharmacy. The two Splicers continued to fire upon the charging Rosie as he stomped towards them while firing his Rivet Gun. Quickly losing patience, the Tin Man retrieved a Proximity Mine from his inventory and then hurled the barbed cylinder at the women inside the aluminum building. The explosive device flew through the open window frames and then detonated in midair upon reaching the Splicers.

The explosive device's shockwave ripped through the pharmacy along with the accompanying cloud of fire and metal shrapnel. Both women cried out in agony as their frames disappeared in the explosion. The pharmacy's gutted shell groaned loudly in protest as the weakened sides began to noticeably warp and crumple. However, by some miracle, the structure managed to remain standing.

I mentally cursed. How was I supposed to take down this goddess-like creature and still somehow keep from bringing down the entire area of Skid Row with her? The Rosie's eye returned to a calm yellow as the giant let out a satisfied low moan. Turning back around, the now charred Tin Man began to slowly stomp towards the Little Sister Vent. Meanwhile, the armored young woman climbed up the side of the jack that was holding up the roof with unnerving ease. As she reached the thin neck of the jack, the Elite Big Sister jumped from the object to the roof of the pharmacy. Landing on her weighted feet, the goddess quickly turned back and looked down at me with her hellish red eye.

As I stopped in front of the pharmacy, the armored ex-Little Sister raised her arms up into the air. Miscellaneous objects such as concrete chunks and scrap pieces of wooden boards began to gather in the air above her for a moment before she willed them all towards me with her incredibly powerful Telekinesis. Without missing a beat, I raised my left hand up and used my own Telekinesis to take control of a large chunk of concrete before it smashed into my face. Before the Elite Big Sister could react, I launched the object back at her though with noticeably less power.

The concrete chunk, which was the size of a basketball, impacted the goddess in the center of her hellish eye with enough force to send her stumbling backwards about four steps. Quickly recovering, the Big Sister let out a mechanical-sounding hiss before she jumped from the roof to the edge of the nearby gangplank. Her feet had barely made contract with the edge of the flimsy structure before she propelled herself towards me.

The woman rotated her body during the flight to have her tungsten-tipped needle ready to penetrate deep into my frame. Revving up my industrial-grade drill and with my left hand now surrounded by dancing blue electric arcs, I let out a low-pitched, rumbling, guttural roar. With the force of a speeding locomotive, the armored goddess slammed into my frame. Her needle easily punched through the thick hide of my right shoulder while simultaneously, the spinning razor sharp tip of my drill tore into her hourglass-like midsection. The thin leather corset and underlying black canvas were ripped away completely to reveal the chainmail armor beneath.

As metal sparks flew in the small gap between our bodies, I felt the disturbing sensation of her needle sucking inside my body. Luckily, the needle had failed to make contact with any of my arteries and, thus, she did not draw out any of my ADAM. Since her body was connected to mine because of her needle, she was forced to more or less straddle my waist with her long athletic legs and firmly grip the left handle on the back of my copper diving helmet with her right hand. I could not use my Electro Bolt or Incinerate Plasmids to dislodge her without inflicting damage upon myself. Instead, after cocking my left arm back, I plunged my gauntlet-encased left fist into the center of her eye.

The raw force of my physical assault was enough to completely shatter the glass of her eye. Howling as if she was a wounded animal, the Elite Big Sister retreated from my body. After landing on her feet, she made her way over to the side of the nearby base of the hydraulic jack while her hands were up around the jagged hole in her face. Upon reaching the jack's base, the woman leaned against it and placed the palms of her hands on either side of the center of her head. Then, letting out a continuous series of strange noises that sounded suspiciously like they were negative statements about me, the Elite Big Sister began to remove her head.

Inexplicably, I found myself spellbound as I watched the diving-suit clad young woman slowly twist her head to the side whereupon it gave off a loud metal click as the watertight seal was unlocked. As she removed her head, smooth, silver hair appeared. Once the goddess had removed her head, she dropped it into the deep pool of frigid Atlantic water at her feet.

I felt mesmerized by the sight before me. The Elite Big Sister's face was impossibly delicate and beautiful considering her origins and purpose. The masterpiece-like contours of her frost white complexion gave her the appearance of a snow angel with her symmetrical tight cheeks, small nose that had a slightly sharp ridge, subtle pointed chin, and thin but inviting pink lips. Her shiny silver hair was clearly much longer as the remaining length disappeared into the interior of her suit.

When she looked back at me, I noticed the only inconsistent aspect of her otherwise flawless face: beneath her closed eyes were patches of dark purple as if the poor young woman was suffering from extreme sleep deprivation. The traumatic experience of surviving her Big Daddy's violent death and the subsequent trauma of puberty must have damaged her psychologically even more than I had originally thought.

The extent that her immense ADAM exposure had warped the young woman's physical appearance prevented me from initially identifying her. As she opened her eyes, my gaze was met by a pair of viper-like vertical black pupils that were surrounded by a paper-thin glowing red ring that had tentacle-shaped projections of dark green ADAM branching out from it. However, behind those predatory eyes, I saw a flash of insecure confidence that I had only seen once before: Jennifer.

My supposedly nonexistent heart sank upon realizing who this Elite Big Sister was and also upon the equally demoralizing realization that Subject Lambda was likely deceased. Jennifer turned her body so that she was facing me once again. Her predatory, viper-like eyes narrowed in fury before she charged forward. I raised my left hand up and began to will a blast of Electro Bolt from my ported digits. However, she reached me before the electric arcs could leave the open metal tips of my fingers and roughly slapped my hand aside, causing the blast of Electro Bolt to instead strike the Circus of Values Vending Machine that was in a small cut slot in the far concrete wall.

The machine let out a loud electrical hiss as my genetic electricity suddenly returned power to the machine's dormant systems. The eerie, ghost-like voice of the clown filled Skid Row as he cackled in an evil manner. Meanwhile, the lights of the machine returned and, for a brief moment, bright blue light once again bathed the surrounding area as it had all those years ago. However, the machine's new life was short-lived as the overloaded circuits ignited. Within seconds, the machine was nothing more than a burning steel carcass.

Meanwhile, Jennifer buried her left shoulder into my armored chest with enough force to throw me off-balance. Before I could recover, she let out a hiss and then delivered a sidekick into my chest. I stumbled backwards as my body twisted around while I attempted to remain standing. As I struggled to remain upright, Jennifer jumped onto my back and began to attack my life and combat-support systems.

Letting out an ear-shattering enraged roar, I turned towards the pharmacy and then stumbled backwards. Upon slamming into the aluminum hide of the building, Jennifer let out an agonized cry as I heard her bones crack beneath her suit. The raw force of our impact sent us straight through the thin aluminum hide of the pharmacy. Threatening to collapse the building down around us, we penetrated the exterior wall and continued on until we finally stopped upon making contact with the check-out counter.

After dislodging from my back, the armored young woman ran for the backroom. I followed her to find that the backroom resembled a small laboratory with dark red and green glass containers across the entire length of a shelf that was mounted to the wall that separated the pharmacy and the bookstore. There were also several dirty white cooking pots and the bottoms of several metal tobacco containers. Several bottles of Cure-All were in the empty spaces between the glass containers that were interconnected by spiral tubes. On the floor, I saw the mummified remains of the man himself, Dr. Hollcroft. The man appeared to have taken his own life because of the open container of unidentifiable blue pills in his right hand.

I was clearly no match for Jennifer's athletic abilities as she jumped through a small hole in the back of the room. The hole was too small to allow my much larger frame passage into the bookstore. Mentally cursing, I ran out of the pharmacy to intercept her before she could disappear into the dark corners of Skid Row. Without her glowing red eye, it would be nearly impossible to spot her before it was too late. Why was Jennifer acting like this? Did she not recognize or remember me?

Upon exiting the pharmacy, I turned and began to stomp down the small path beside the two buildings. However, I was horrified when I saw that the Rosie Mass Production Model had summoned a Little Sister from the vent that was across from the entrance of the bookstore. I was struck by the onslaught of the little girl's pheromones that were nearly identical to my beloved master's. The beautiful dirty blue and white dress-clad child turned and waved at me as she said with her edged voice, "Daddy! I'm all better now! Where is my sister?"

Her question was answered seconds later when Jennifer screeched loudly from where she was in the interior of a hole in the side of a walkway that ran overhead the gutted building that was across from the bookstore. Before I could react, I had been hit by a Security Bullseye, or perhaps its successor Security Command, bright blue glowing polyp. Almost immediately, the shrill alarm of the security system filled the air while the bright light of the security camera that was up on the wall above the small little market corner that surrounded the vent illuminated my armored frame.

I roared in primal fury as I was pelted by .45 caliber rounds from the security bots' onboard belt-fed Thompson Submachine Guns. The two automatons circled around me just out of reach as they continued to hammer me with the high-powered pistol rounds. Meanwhile, the confused Rosie Tin Man continued to observe the spectacle that was unfolding mere feet away from him. However, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister cried out in distress as she ran past the Rosie, "Daddy!"

My master had good intentions but she put me in an even worse position as the Rosie, ignorant of what was really going on, stomped forward to "defend" his charge in a single-minded manner. I heard Jennifer let out an amused mechanical-sounding cackle as she observed her handiwork. Powerless to do anything other than console my master, I ignored the circling security bots and bent down to allow the approaching little girl to ride on my shoulders. The Rosie let out an ear-shattering primal roar as my master quickly climbed up and took position on her throne.

I stood just in time for the Rosie to level his Rivet Gun mere inches from the surface of my segmented hellfire red eye. With my new surge of strength from the temporarily repaired bond between my master and me, I reached out with my gauntlet-encased left hand and grabbed ahold of the short barrel of the Tin Man's weapon. Letting out a grunt of exertion, I bent the barrel of the weaponized industrial tool nearly forty-five degrees to the left.

I did not give the Tin Man enough time to react before I followed up by revving up my heavily-modified industrial-grade drill and then thrusting it straight into the abomination's scorched chest. The thinner leather and canvas hide of the Tin Man's chest was poorly armored compared to the thick steel of his head and, as such, the razor sharp tip of my spinning drill bit easily tore its way through the protective layer and into the soft flesh and bone beneath.

However, just as torrents of blood began to eject from the Tin Man, the giant used his gloved left fist to deliver a violent and very powerful melee strike. The blow succeeded in sending me stumbling backwards a few feet before I could recover. When I did, I turned back to see that the Tin Man had turned his Rivet Gun over and was now wielding it as if it was a club. Despite the dire situation I was in, I could not help but be somewhat amused by the sight of the tactician resorting to raw brute strength.

I willed a blast of Electro Bolt in the Tin Man as he lumbered forward despite the huge bleeding wound in his chest. With the big brute temporarily neutralized, I swiftly turned my attention to the swarming security bots. As they briefly paused in midair, I willed two blasts of Electro Bolt from my ported digits into the automatons. With the Rosie almost about to recover from my earlier Plasmid assault, I rushed over to the security camera. Jumping up, I grabbed ahold of the top of the spotlight-like device with my left hand. Then, using my weight, I fell back down to Earth and tore the weakly attached camera from its wall mount.

With one problem solved, I turned my attention back to my remaining adversaries. My self-reported victory was short-lived, as I became aware of the sound of incoming rocket propelled grenades. The projectiles were coming from the gutted building across from the bookstore. Luckily, yet another large hydraulic jack was between myself and the building and, thus, the high explosive rounds were harmlessly exploding against the jack.

Since I was able to ignore the entrenched sentry turret for now, I returned my attention to the charging Tin Man. The weakened Rosie attempted to club me with his tool but I quickly sidestepped his assault. Instead of cracking open my skull, the Rosie demolished one of the wooden merchant vendor stands against the wall. Flanking around the big brute, I revved up my drill and then thrust its spinning bit into the Rosie's life support systems on his back.

The sound of tearing and ripping metal filled the air as my drill's hardened steel alloy bit tore into the exterior of the large tank on the brute's back. The Mass Production Model Rosie's Life Support Tank was able to briefly resist my drill's tip. However, seconds later, in a massive explosion, my drill bored through the tank's steel hide and the pressurized contents made contact with the sparks being given off by the cutting grooves of my drill's bit. Thanks to the Electromagnetic Dynamo Upgrade on my drill, I, and, more importantly, my master, were unscathed. However, the Rosie was not as fortunate as the explosion destroyed what little there was left of his Life Support Systems. Letting out a final whale-like wail, the giant collapsed in a flaming heap on the cold wet concrete ground.

On my back, Eleanor chirped, "Daddy's gonna give you storms and birdies!" I felt a surge of pride at my master's words and could not help but let out a series of laugh-like grunts. Once again however, the celebration was premature. Jennifer growled with a mechanical tone as she jumped from the hole to the side of the jack. My master pleaded with her sister, "Sister please stop hurting Daddy! He wants to help us get free from bad word lady!"

For a brief moment, my master's words seemed to have an effect on Jennifer. Her head cocked to the side as if she was confused. My master continued, "Bad word lady is using us! Don't you see? Papa Delta wants to take us all away to the bright shiny place without a ceiling! Bad word lady doesn't love us at all! Papa Delta loves us all!"

It seemed as if Eleanor's words had made Jennifer come to her senses for nearly a minute. The fury in her frightening yet mesmerizing eyes abated while, at the same time, her expression softened. However, just as it seemed as if my master had succeeded in diffusing the situation, the former Alpha Series Little Sister shook her head. When she looked back, the look of homicidal rage had returned. Whatever nightmarish hell was going on inside her mind, she was clearly was too far gone in her desire to kill me to be reasoned with for the time being. Perhaps, if I managed to incapacitate her, we could reason with her more successfully.

Hissing, Jennifer lunged from the jack towards me with the intention of sending her sword-like weapon's razor sharp tip through the glass skin of my eye. I reached out and grabbed her outstretched weapon by its tip with my gloved left hand. Then, turning, I threw her into the only remaining nearby wooden market kiosk. The flimsy structure could have hardly been expected to successfully absorb the force of the impact and, instead, the entire kiosk collapsed down on top of the armored woman.

Taking advantage of Jennifer's momentary disorientation, I turned my attention to the two disabled Security Bots. The automatons were lying on their side near the corroded hydraulic jack. Their running lights were flickering erratically and their propeller blades were uselessly spinning and slicing into the concrete floor. After quickly making my way over to them, I used Johnny Topside's prior experience with the machine in the Atlantis Express Train Depot to locate the crudely crafted machines' on-board Central Processor Unit and then detached the necessary cables to manually "hack" the target perimeters. By then, Jennifer was getting to her feet from beneath the boards that had fallen on top of her back.

Acting quickly, I stomped down onto the first hacked bot with my weighted right foot and took ahold of the bot's pull-start cord handle. Just as Jennifer had managed to get to her feet, I pulled on the cord. Giving off a loud chirp and revving up its two-stroke gasoline fishing boat motor, the Security Bot rose up into the air. I smirked beneath my emotionless copper face when I saw that the hacked bot's indicator light had changed from yellow to green.

Giving off its "attacking" chirp, my new ally began to assault the armored goddess before it. Giving off an infuriated screech, Jennifer raised her right gloved hand up to shield her face as the .45 caliber rounds began to impact her frame. One of the high-powered rounds easily punched through her gloved hand and hit her in her right cheek. The young woman's mangled jawbone and teeth were visible momentarily before her skin began to emit a soft yellow glow. By the time that she had lowered her right hand and willed a ball of genetic flame to manifest in its palm, the bullet's damage had been erased from her once again angelic face.

As Jennifer attacked the lone bot with her own powerful version of Incinerate!, I re-activated the other bot. The Security Bot chirped as it became operational once again and then began to join the other assailed bot in the attack on the Elite Big Sister. Jennifer was in the process of hurling her genetic fireballs at the first bot as I faced her. I began to move towards her with my drill and Incinerate! Plasmid at the ready. However, an explosion to my right caught my attention.

I turned my entire body just in time to see that the rocket-propelled grenade's warhead had compromised the hydraulic jack. The shaft had snapped near the base and was now lying on the ground off to the right near the bookstore. A loud, cracking sound drew my attention to the roof above our heads. Horrified, I saw that the deep cracks in the concrete ceiling were beginning to widen at an alarmingly accelerating rate. Seawater began to pour into Skid Row through the cracks mere seconds after the supporting shaft of the jack had been removed.

Having seen enough, I turned and began to retreat back towards the pharmacy. I had to get my master away from the collapsing ceiling! I had no sooner entered the pool of the partially submerged section of the path next to the pharmacy and bookstore before I heard a deafening crash. Seconds later, I felt the presence of a new onrush of icy Atlantic water at my feet. I quickly reached the front of the pharmacy and turned to look back.

I saw a huge pile of rubble where I had just been moments prior. The path to the area beyond the bookstore was rendered inaccessible by the pile of debris. Worse, a river of seawater was now cascading down through the hole in the ceiling that was the size of bathysphere. The thick veins of water were running along the contours of the pile of rubble as the water made its way to the concrete floor. Skid Row's aged pumps and drain systems were, by some miracle that escaped my understanding, holding back the tide of water but only just barely as there was now a thin layer of water everywhere.

The faint, retreating echo of the Security Bots' Submachine Gun fire informed me that Jennifer had retreated deeper into Skid Row. I would need to find a way around the rubble pile in order to pursue her. That is, if Skid Row did not fall apart on me before then. Maybe the others were right. Maybe, I was nothing more than a brute; no better than those lumbering, disgusting Tin Men. Sensing my downhearted mood, my master remarked, "Don't be sad Daddy. I don't like it when you are sad."

Noticing the path to my left that seemed to offer an alternative route to the other side of Skid Row, I began to make my way towards it. As I did, I rumbled with my Alpha Series voice, "Sorry master…I did not intend to upset you."

To my surprise, my charge replied, "I am not upset silly. I don't want Daddy to be hurting on the inside. Bad word lady failed…I am still yours Daddy…just as much as you are mine. My brain is silly but I know that my feelings for you aren't because of Papa Suchong and Papa Alexander! I know it! I feel it in my heart!"

I only vaguely noted the corpse of a fallen Rosie in a side area as I continued forward through the damp, tight passageway. I smiled slightly beneath my copper and glass face at my master's shameless trumpeting of her love for me. As her Big Daddy, I understood my purpose. However, I had to admit that it was nice to have more than just my master's acceptance. It was true that the circumstances made the nature of our relationship socially taboo but for her I would do anything if it meant making her happy.

Ahead of me, I saw an El Ammo Bandito Vending Machine and a path that went off to the right that appeared to allow access to the second floor residential area. Further on, I saw the large panels of reinforced glass that granted an excellent view of the surrounding Atlantic Ocean. As I recalled, this curved wall of metal and glass was the end of Skid Row and was directly across from the entrance to the small Jazz Club named the Limbo Room. My recollection of the Limbo Room sent a red hot stab of pain through my mind as I remembered what Johnny Topside had thus far been unable to on his own merit.

Grace had become a prominent singer in Rapture upon being invited to the city along with her husband. For a while, all went well. Then, her husband had spoken out against Andrew Ryan's increasingly authoritarian policies. He was "vanished" in the middle of the night by Ryan's Security Teams as a result. Without her husband, Grace struggled financially and spiritually. She spoke out against Ryan through her songs. However, the ever egotistic Ryan was unable to take it on the chin and had her blacklisted.

Now destitute, Grace found herself in Pauper's Drop along with the rest of the citizens of Rapture that had fallen through the cracks of society. The Drop was a slum even then. The mushrooms that grew in The Drop had more worth than the human beings that took up residence there. The residents just wanted some glimmer of hope; to be told that they did indeed still have worth. However, no one in the rest of Rapture lost any sleep over the appalling living conditions of The Drop. Even Frank Fontaine wanted nothing to do with the impoverished residents of The Drop.

Then along came a certain psychiatrist named Dr. Sofia Lamb. This innocent-looking Lamb individual came bearing hope; words of kindness; promises of pipedreams about unity and metamorphosis. All of these things were, in short, everything that the residents of Pauper's Drop wanted to hear. Desperate for anyone to tell them that they were "loved", the residents began to fall under the psychiatrist's spell one by one. However, Lamb knew that she needed "the voice" of The Drop: Grace Holloway.

I hated the woman for the fact the she was still breathing but I did have to hand it Sofia, she was very proficient with her mind games. Grace went to her for a therapy session at that church abomination in Siren Alley. Lamb instantly picked up on what I picked up on as well when I had first met the singer: she was sterile and desired nothing more than to be mother. During the second session, Lamb turned the poor woman's greatest desire against her. The psychiatrist got into Grace's head and soon had the entire population of Pauper's Drop under her spell.

Ol' Andrew Ryan was not about to let Sofia pull Rapture out from under him. He blackmailed his only real friend, McDonagh, to sponsor the Council's silence of Lamb. A reporter by the name of Poole became a mole in Lamb's "Family". Before long, there was enough evidence of collectivism to get Lamb sent to Persephone. Sofia knew that Persephone's residents would also fall under her spell so she did not resist the arrest.

Right before Ryan's thugs came for her, Lamb entrusted Grace with the care of my beloved master. However, because Grace lived in The Drop and I lived in political asylum in Dionysus Park, Eleanor was constantly escaping from Grace to visit me. No matter how many times I lectured her about the dangers of doing such, my master would not stop putting herself in harm's way by trekking across Rapture to return to her mother's "home" to be with me.

After a while, I stopped trying to keep her from visiting me. After all, I was just as lonely without her as she was without me. It was not like I was the life of the party or anything. Meanwhile, Eleanor, a stubborn, rebellious child with staggering intellect that had an unquenchable thirst of curiosity, had just as few social contacts as I did. That boy, Amir, vanished one day. My master was so distraught that I agreed to help her look for him. We never found him of course. Amir had shown her a book about the surface and now without access to that book or Amir, Eleanor's curiosity about the surface nearly drove her mad. There was only one person that she could call a friend and talk about the surface with: me. I was a little uncomfortable with her increasingly obsessive attachment to me but I just wanted company so I did not have it in me to turn her away.

We had been close before but, during that brief time, we became fond of each other. I had never thought of having a child before I had arrived in Rapture and met Eleanor. However, something about the young brunette child that held such charming wonder in her eyes when she looked at the world around her struck a chord inside me. It had been nearly a lifetime since I had encountered someone that could make me feel as insecure yet comfortable as Eleanor did. Then, one day, she asked me if she could call me her dad.

The voice in my head screamed at me to tell her no. It would be wrong for me to tell her that she could. She was not my child and therefore I had no right to twist her into thinking that she was. I had already sold part of my soul by allowing a young girl who was much younger than I was to become attached to me as a friend. I was a decorated military veteran. I, of all people, should have been a moral beacon in the otherwise corrupt environment that was Rapture.

However, I looked into her innocent blue eyes and my morality crumbled. I told her that she could call me whatever she wanted to as long as it made her happy. I suppose that karma has been ensuring that I pay dearly for such a moral failing ever since. However, if karma is real, then the universe has a sick sense of justice judging by the events that have transpired in the years since that decision.

After what happened soon afterwards, both Eleanor and I found ourselves as test subjects in an experimental program called the Alpha Series Gatherer/Protector Program. I became Subject Delta because I was the fourth candidate selected for the Alpha Series Protector Program. Eleanor became the very first Little Sister that survived the conversion process of being turned into an Alpha Series Gatherer. The conversion process was still in its research stage at the time and there had only been limited success with previous attempts. Either the girls simply died outright as a result of the surgery where they put the slug inside of their digestive track, or they lost a large degree of their mental faculties.

It was Tenenbaum who figured out what the problem was and Eleanor was the girl that they used to test her hypothesis. Unlike most of the girls that followed, my master's mental faculties were largely intact even after the subsequent, now somewhat infamous, bonding process that connected our bodies physiologically. It was ironic that the more they twisted us, the closer and more dangerous our attachment to each other became. Indeed, before Johnny Topside would have gladly defended her with his life. However, now, they had a far more fanatical and violent defender to contend with: Subject Delta.

People did not quite understand. It was indeed still the man Johnny Topside inside this armored monster. However, the Bonding Process traumatized his psyche to the extreme extent that it created a schism. One side was the personality of the compassionate former war hero nicknamed "Johnny Topside". The other side was of the apathetic living personification of homicidal rage that these people called "Subject Delta". In truth, I was still Topside and I acknowledged that fact. However, Topside is still so convinced that I am a completely separate being because of how polar our personalities are that he refuses to believe us when we tell him otherwise. The only way I could summarize us was that we are the proverbial "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde".

While the rest of the city bought into Ryan's propaganda that we were the "Saviors of Rapture", Sofia, Grace, and "The Family" could not have been more disgusted by us. When word got to Sofia about what happened to her daughter, the psychiatrist had her first taste of what it meant to have her world turned upside down. I can only imagine her reaction to the news, but, knowing her, it was most likely an internal firestorm. In Persephone, there was little to nothing that she could do to get her world back. Meanwhile, Grace was at a loss about what happened to Eleanor until one fateful day. We were making our first gathering session in Pauper's Drop. We had stopped in front of the Limbo Room to gather from a fresh corpse of a young woman.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

Looking away from the small crowd of curious onlookers that had gathered in the small courtyard around the bookstore to observe us at a safe distance, I physically turned my broad shoulders and hunched over slightly so that I was able to see the small white dress-clad brunette where she was just beside my massive right foot. The blazing red light of my segmented eye cast a faint shadow over the scene that met my gaze. There at my feet on the cold, damp dimly lit concrete floor, was my beautiful Eleanor.

She was hunched over the corpse of a young Caucasian woman that was clad in dirty maintenance worker attire and had a horribly mutated face. Judging by the amount of bullet wounds that riddled the corpse, it was very likely that the Splicer had meet her end at the business end of a Thompson Submachine Gun at pointblank range. The killer appeared to have left a calling card in the form of the small blue butterfly that had been left on top of the woman's chest. The echoing sound of Eleanor's Gathering Tool filled the air as she drew the ADAM-rich blood out of the corpse. However, my master's attention was elsewhere as she glanced up at me with a saddened look in her enchanting glowing yellow eyes.

Alarmed, I grunted in a questioning manner. Eleanor's eyes shinned momentarily with even more sorrow before she explained with her edged voice, "I'm sorry, Daddy. If it had not been for me, the mean bad people wouldn't have made us like this."

I let out a reassuring grunt while I gently lowered my gauntlet-encased left hand down onto her head. She giggled slightly as I softly rubbed her tiny forehead as gently as I could in my condition. When I withdrew my hand moments later, she had finished drawing the ADAM out of the corpse beneath her. I returned to my vigil and kept an eye out for any Splicer that may attempt to snatch Eleanor's Gathering Tool from her at the last second. Luckily, the Splicers had yet to learn that the real prize was on the inside of a Little Sister and not in the reservoir of her Gathering Tool. As such, the rare Splicer that was desperate enough to risk everything in an attack on us always went for my master's "toy" and largely ignored Eleanor herself.

On this occasion, however, the residents of The Drop were clearly more than content with merely observing us from a safe distance. A moment later, a loud unmuffled burp followed by a giggle signaled that Eleanor had consumed the ADAM-rich blood of the corpse and was ready to move on. With his job done, the monster went back in his cage. As Subject Delta became dormant once more, the red light being emitted from my eye changed back to a calm golden yellow.

I turned my entire body to face my beautiful daughter and then offered her my gloved left hand. She surprised me when she shook her head stubbornly and then said, "I want to go to the bookstore." When I let out a questioning grunt, she smiled before she explained, "They might have one about the surface."

I paused briefly. Before that moment, I had been worried that Eleanor had given up on her dream of exploring the surface world. However, clearly that was not the case. If anything, she was now more determined than ever to escape Rapture. It was a near impossible dream but the longer I could keep her imagination and intellectual curiosity alive, the more likely it was that she could overcome the madness that they had put inside her mind. Her real personality was a flame inside of her that was in peril of being extinguished forever by the Little Sister Conditioning that they had forced into her. If I failed to keep the flame lit, the real Eleanor Lamb would be lost forever.

I could not save my friend all those years ago but there was still a chance for me to save Eleanor. Regardless of what happened to me, I would not fail this time. I smiled beneath my emotionless copper face before I let out a grunt of agreement. My daughter smiled and jumped up and down briefly before taking ahold of my left hand. Dragging me along behind her, Eleanor made her way towards the bookstore beyond the crowd of onlookers.

As we approached, the crowd began to disperse. That is, except one individual. An elderly woman clad in raggedy clothes looked intently at Eleanor as if she was unsure that she was indeed seeing what she was seeing. I began to feel uneasy as I identified the woman as Grace. Would the devoted Lamb follower and godmother of Eleanor try something foolish to try to get my daughter away from me?

Luckily, Grace retreated away just in time to prevent being seen by Eleanor. As such, we were able to reach the bookstore without Eleanor's good mood being spoiled. The "selection" was what I expected with water-ruined old cook books, "used" pornographic magazines, and outdated textbooks. By some miracle, Eleanor managed to find a travel magazine that did not have too much water damage or inappropriate images in it. The store owner was essentially pushing us out the door so we got the magazine and an old Geography textbook for free.

With her small stack in her grasp, Eleanor led me out of the small establishment. We began to make our way over to the glass panels in front of the Limbo Room. However, this time, Grace had no intention of letting Eleanor slip away from her. The elderly woman appeared in the middle of the path that allowed access to the area around the Limbo Room. As she neared her former "aunt", Eleanor suddenly stopped both singing and walking as she noticed Grace. To two locked eyes for a brief moment. During that unsettling instant, one could have heard a needle drop on the other side of Skid Row. An eternity seemed to pass before Grace finally asked with a concerned tone, "Eleanor…what happened to you baby girl?" She began to walk forward towards us with her hands reaching out towards my daughter.

I let out a threatening growl in an attempt to scare off Eleanor's former caretaker. Eleanor shook her head before she called out to Grace as she hugged the magazine and worn book to her small chest, "No Aunt Gracie! Stay back! Daddy can't help it!" The elderly widow failed to heed our warnings and was now within grabbing distance of my daughter. I was left with no alternative other than to defend my bonded partner.

I let out a final warning in the form of a deafening guttural roar as the burning artificial fury of my Protector Instincts stormed into my mind. With my eye and auxiliary lights now emitting a hellfire red, I quickly grabbed ahold of my charge with my gloved left hand and then relocated her over my back to her throne. As I did, the magazine and book fell out of Eleanor's grasp and they landed unceremoniously on the damp concrete ground as if to mock us for having tried to make a positive out of our horrible situation.

I raised my industrial-grade weaponized mining drill up at the ready in an effort to intimidate the defenseless woman. I did not want to hurt her after all. If she had been just another ADAM junkie, I would have killed her long before now. However, she was Eleanor's godmother and, as such, I forced myself to exercise restraint. Amazingly, the unarmed widow showed me no fear as she bore into me with her weathered eyes in a cold glare. Raising her right hand and pointing at me with her right index finger, Grace demanded, "What have you done to Eleanor you goddamn monster?!"

Eleanor begged from my back, "No Aunt Gracie! Please don't be mean to Daddy! He is a victim too!"

Grace advanced as she demanded, "Give her back!"

Mustering all my willpower, I managed to resist the urge to thrust my drill into the woman's face. I was unable to prevent myself from acting upon my Protector Instincts however. Through our bond, I pleaded, "_Eleanor…please_ _forgive me._" I raised my left hand up towards my right shoulder and then swung it back into the side of Grace's face. The blow was strong enough to send her falling onto the unforgiving concrete floor and I was certain that it had also broken her jaw.

Eleanor began to cry loudly. The scene was attracting too much attention. I had to get my daughter far away before the Splicers arrived. Seeing the magazine and book on the damp floor, I quickly bent down and gathered them up with my left hand. Then, as the sound of approaching individuals filled the air, I hastily retreated towards the exit of Skid Row.

When I finally found a small, isolated spot near the Fishbowl Diner, I felt my Protector Instincts subside. I lowered my massive frame down onto my left knee to allow my daughter to depart. My mind was a frenzy of thoughts and emotions as I stood back upright. What would Eleanor think of me now? Would she hate me? I did not want to hurt Grace but she left me no choice. Eleanor would understand that right?

A soft giggling tore me from my thoughts. Confused, I looked down to see that my daughter had somehow managed to retrieve the magazine and book from my slackened grasp without my notice. She had the magazine open and in her lap as she sat on top of a discarded shipping crate that was tall enough to bring her up to my waist and with her legs dangling over the edge.

My confusion only increased when she beamed up at me as she turned the magazine around and up towards me so that I could clearly make out the image. It was a beach scene that was set in a cliché "island paradise" with white sand, several coconut trees, nearby sparkling blue ocean with perfect waves for surfing, and a perfect blue sunny sky. The ink of the image had paled due to the exposure to moisture and the text was illegible but my daughter did not seem to care in the slightest.

She asked me with overwhelming curiosity, "Where is this Daddy? It is so beautiful."

I started to question her sanity but then it dawned on me that Eleanor was telling me that she did not blame me or hate me at all for what had just happened. Better yet, my plan to keep her true personality alive seemed to be working. It was a long shot that we would make it out of Rapture alive but I did not care. As long as I could keep Eleanor happy and safe, I did not care about escape.

With my daughter looking up at me expectantly, I replied through our Pair Bond, "_Appears to be somewhere in the Bahamas, kid._"

Eleanor turned the magazine back around and hugged the image against her chest as she closed her eyes for a moment. Then, she opened her eyes and asked with her Little Sister voice, "Where are the Bahamas, Daddy? I would love to know what clean beach sand feels like on my bare feet." Then, almost to herself, she added quietly, "And lie against Daddy's warm chest while wearing nothing but my thin swimsuit."

Clearly, I had either misinterpreted or misheard her last statement so I simply shrugged it off before I replied through our bond, "_A little below and to the east of the southern tip of Florida._"

Eleanor proudly stated, "I know that one! It is the state in the United States that looks like a boot!"

I grunted with an encouraging tone. My daughter blushed slightly as a result of my praise before she asked, "Would you like to look through the rest of the magazine with me Daddy?" I let out an affirming grunt in response as I moved to stand next to her. When I was in position, Eleanor inched her way along the edge of the crate until she could lean against my frame. I quickly lost track of time as my daughter slowly progressed through the pages. Every image fascinated her for what seemed like hours as she continued a steady stream of questions for me to answer.

Any remaining concern that Eleanor had been damaged by what they had put her through was erased during the countless hours that we spent devoured the contents of the travel magazine. The pale angelic brunette that was with me now was indeed still Eleanor. Moreover, my own mental faculties were still largely intact minus the damage caused by the Protector Instincts. Escape was not out of the realm of possibility. However, for now, I would not waste my energy on such achieving such a pipedream. Eleanor needed me and I needed her. We were in this together and we would get out of this together one way or another.


	17. Chapter 17: Rapture's Apex Predator

Ch. 17: Rapture's Apex Predator

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry for the delay. College is over for now though :)

I want to thank and give credit to JasonVUK for the ideas for Alpha's Prototype Rivet Gun. Thanks for your support :) I always value input/ideas and I believe in giving credit when credit is due.

Anyway,

I went into what makes an Alpha Series Big Daddy "tick" so to speak in this chapter. I also explain a little bit more about what happened to his brothers after Delta's demise at the hands of Sofia Lamb.

We also see the end of the fight to determine which is the apex predator in Rapture: Big Sister or Subject Delta.

I hope everyone is enjoying this story so far :)

Read and review if you want.

* * *

As I moved forward towards the unbelievably deteriorated area in front of The Limbo Room, I was slightly taken aback by how unstable it was. Two giant red oil well-style water pumps the size of a three story building were in front of the entrance to the below street level establishment. As the colossal pumps went about their work to keep the entirety of Skid Row from turning into a fish tank, they filled the air with a rhythmic thump as their pistons rose up and down in their slots in a manner that was very similar to the drive shafts of a steam powered locomotive. The entire area was dark due to the failure of the light fixtures. The floor's surface was cracked and broken almost everywhere. Water was collecting beneath the water pumps in a deep trough. The curved wall of glass and metal was covered with algae though not enough to prevent a view of the surrounding Atlantic Ocean.

The sounds of submachine gun fire, whirling propellers, and an enraged Big Sister drew my attention to the far side of the area. There, I saw Jennifer being pursued by the two hacked Security Bots, which by that time had been heavily damaged as evident by the fact that their forms were consumed by flames. Her outfit was torn in several places from the barrage of .45 ACP rounds. The most noticeable of the areas of damage was around her chest where the corset was nearly gone, which allowed the tight layer of chainmail to reveal the faint outline of her developed breasts. The heavy steel chainmail armor was visible beneath the areas of damage but the submachine gun rounds had thus far failed to injury her severely due to its thick metal hide.

As she reached the first large oval window of the curved wall before me, she wheeled around to face the pursuing bots. Growling with an edged tone, she raised her right hand out before her. The armored woman seized the bots with her powerful Telekinesis Plasmid and willed them into the side of the nearby bulkhead with more than enough force to shatter their nimble frames as if they were made out of glass. When she turned to face me, I saw that her eyes had lost some of their earlier fire but they still had plenty of fight left in them. I smiled at the realization that the annoying machines had not stolen my fight.

Glancing quickly to my right to study the corner of the area as a last minute preparation for the coming brawl, I noted the pile of rubble just to the right of the nearest giant water pump, the split fuel drum and the resulting patch of highly flammable petrol just at the base of the pile of rubble, and the teardrop-shaped security camera mounted so that it was facing the convenient patch of petrol. I quickly thought to myself that it was a rather odd placement of a security camera.

I could not have the blasted device interfering with the fight now could I? I turned my entire torso to the right and shorted the camera out with a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my gloved left hand. A nearby loose chunk of the concrete floor proved to be the end of the camera as I picked it up and then threw it into the ruffled metal hide of the device.

Turning back to face the physically imposing young woman, I also noted the Circus of Values Vending Machine that was against the far left wall. Any hopes for a last minute refill of my various reserves were dashed as Jennifer screeched and then charged towards me. I brought my heavy industrial-grade drill that no ordinary man could ever dream of being able to lift let alone wield effectively against an opponent to bear as my left hand became engulfed in genetic flame.

As she neared the first large water pump, Jennifer jumped up to the side of it. With her eyes glowing with fury, she then launched herself towards me. I willed a ball of genetic flame into her frame in mid-air. The genetic flame ate into the remaining sections of the leather hide of her diving suit while the sick stench of burnt skin and hair filled the already foul air. She let out a mournful screech but I tuned out her heartbreaking cries as I swung my drill into her chest when she got close enough.

She let out another agonized cry as my strike sent her flying off to my left. However, she recovered just in time to catch herself and landed upright on all four limbs. The armored goddess moved as if she was an animal as she strafed back to the right. Then, after rolling forward, she did a front flip in the air before bringing both weighted feet down on top of my diving helmet-clad head.

A harsh echo vibrated inside of my head for a moment as I recoiled from the blow. Taking advantage of my moment of weakness, Jennifer thrust her sword-like giant needle into my chest. The tungsten-tipped needle had little difficulty in piercing my copper armor. I growled in pain as I felt the insidious weapon penetrate through my ribcage and pierce my right lung. The psychotic young woman smirked, her unusually potent canines being displayed in the process, as she twisted and jerked her needle while it was inside of me.

Red began to flash in my vision as blood began to spurt out of my mouth every time I tried to breathe. Enraged, I balled my massive left hand into a fist and then delivered a bone-shattering punch straight into the center of her skull. ADAM-infused blood squirted out of her broken nose as her head was bent backward at an unnatural angle. Seeking to return the favor, I reached out with my left hand and roughly grabbed her by the top of her head.

Her muffled cries were silent to me as I lifted the predator off her feet and held her up in the air before me. My prey struggled in my grasp as she made a full-hearted effort to escape. The frightened youngster clawed, kicked, and even tried to bite into the palm of my left hand. However, no matter what she did, the Elite Big Sister could not escape my vice-like grip. Applying pressure, I began to violently shake her while letting out an enraged guttural roar.

The vertebrae in her neck audibly cracked and snapped as if they were made out of toothpicks. The catastrophic amount of agony that she was in became evident as I felt her muscles contracting independently from each other as each sought relief from the feedback of their nerve endings. Mercy was for the weak and so I continued my Protector Instinct-fueled rampage.

I stomped over to the first large oval window of the curved wall. Then, after cocking my left arm all the way back behind me with the young woman still held in my grasp, I thrust Jennifer's skull straight into the thick section of glass. The sounds of a sick hollow thud and the cracking of burdened glass filled the air. Upon seeing that she was still moving, I repeated the action.

This time, bright red blood with streaks of green ADAM coated the window following the impact. A hairline crack appeared in the surface of the glass as well. Jennifer was still resisting though now with noticeably less enthusiasm. I felt a stab of pain in my heart as I imagined her torment of not being able to die to escape the pain that I was putting her in. For once, it was not only Johnny Topside that was making me feel this way.

Just as I considered letting go, I saw a group of observing Splicers in my peripheral vision as they looked on from the entrance to the upper floor that was to our left. The expression on their twisted faces was one of pure disbelief. I could only image what their deteriorated minds were thinking as they realized that not even an "Elite" Big Sister was a match for "The Demon" Subject Delta. I mentally sighed while begging for my master's forgiveness. There was no turning back now.

I cocked my arm back once again and then thrust Jennifer's skull into the weakened section of glass. This time, I felt much less resistance as her skull hit the hard cracked surface of the window. Even more blood was left where her head made contact with the glass and I felt her body become partially limp. Worse, an ear-shattering crack filled the air as the hairline crack deepened as it also traveled all the way to the top of the window. Frigid sea water began to spray both of us as it penetrated through the cracks though miraculously the window continued to hold up against the immense amount of pressure being exerted upon its weakened surface.

The Splicers had clearly seen enough as I heard one of them, a man, yell, "Fuck this shit! Let's book!"

A woman objected, "But…Lamb told us to…"

The man, having apparently already started to run towards the exit to Skid Row as evident by the distant sound of his voice, called back, "Open your eyes you stupid fucking broad! Lamb and her salvation aren't worth towin' it with Subject Delta!"

Another man, who had also started to run, cried out in agreement, "I never even wanted to join The Family! I just wanted some ADAM! This isn't worth it! I'm out!"

The woman realized that she was alone and cried out as she ran after her fellow retreating Splicers, "Boy! Stay here and watch the estate while the mister and I go out!"

It was a bitter sweet realization that the tactic had paid off. I felt the woman in my grasp move slightly. I shook off my weakness. The Splicers may have been convinced but that did not make her any less of a threat. Wheeling around, I threw her towards the cellar-like entrance to The Limbo Room. The armored goddess smashed through the railing and continued on to hit the concrete ground just before the entrance to the abandoned establishment.

As I moved towards the section of broken railing, I could hear Jennifer crawling into the former singing club. I noticed a child's drawing on the filthy concrete floor. When I examined it, I saw that it was a flower drawn out of chalk. More intriguing was that its blue petals formed the shape of an arrow and the arrow was pointed towards the very section of broken railing that I was headed towards.

Upon reaching the section overlooking the below ground entrance to the club, I saw a large bright yellow chalk drawing of the Sun in the center of the last large square section of wet concrete before the entrance to The Limbo Room. A Pneumo Tube of the still functional jet mail delivery service was to the left of the drawing and was against the concrete base of the club's wall. I was even more intrigued than before. I jumped down to the below ground entrance. As I landed in the center of the drawing of the Sun, I heard the struggling young woman cry out in distress. I turned my entire body to face the interior of the establishment.

I found a ransacked building. There before me was the checkout counter. The only object that even hinted at the structure's original purpose was the cash register that was waiting for the money of patrons that had long since stopped patronizing the club. Behind the trashed counter against the wall was a vandalized Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine. The device was giving off sparks as it leaned against a nearby shelf.

However, there was one item in the vandalized club that was out of place besides the crawling Elite Big Sister that was making her way towards the backroom that was visible to the right of the counter. A bright red toy wagon was sitting in front of the counter. Before it was a cartoon chalk drawing of myself, or more specifically Johnny Topside judging by the bright yellow coloring of our segmented eye and the two small axillary lights, and a blue dress-clad Little Sister who was offering Topside a small present.

Inside the small toy wagon was a bright red glowing Plasmid Vial. On either side of the glowing decorative vial was a jar of fireflies. On the back wall just to the right of the vandalized Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine, I saw another chalk drawing of a crude Big Daddy archetype and a little girl that was holding a present. Next to the drawing was the phrase, "For Daddy".

As I approached, I suddenly heard the precious angel riding on her throne on my back say, "Take this father, and hurry. You are evolving fast but your heart is getting weaker. I can keep you alive but you must find me."

I smiled ever so slightly beneath my copper face. So, my master was back to her old self. Though that might not be as great as it should have been. They said that time rotted all things; people included. As much as I was devoted to her, Eleanor was not the innocent child that I had once defended. Rapture and the Little Sister conditioning could not break her but the obsession with her "father" could easily break her. At least I knew my place. That fool Johnny Topside clearly did not. My job was to protect Eleanor and that was my sole joy in life. Topside on the other hand apparently believed that it was acceptable to be not only Eleanor's "father" but also her lover. It was disgusting. Regardless, I would protect both of them just as I had always done.

Jennifer retreated into the backroom. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I quickly used my Telekinesis Plasmid to extract a sample of the new Plasmid from the vial using an empty EVE Hypo that had fallen out of the non-operational Gatherer's Garden. After injecting the Hypo's contents into the IV Port on my left arm, I shuttered slightly as I felt the Plasmid rapidly rewriting my genetic code. I grunted in discomfort as several objects the size of tennis balls began to sprout out of my left arm in several spots. My tight diving suit's skin pressed the objects back into my arm in a painful manner, which only added to my discomfort. Moments later, a bright red polyp the size of a baseball began to form in my left hand.

I recognized the object from the plants that had been growing in Fontaine Futuristics's experimental labs. Splicing ADAM into the genetic code of a typical ocean plant produced a curious-looking plant that produced giant red polyps instead of seeds. These polyps would burst if touched and the jelly-like contents would cover everything within the radius of half a meter. The red substance had a peculiar influence on living organisms though the ADAM-ravaged nature of a Splicer's body made him or her even more vulnerable than the typical organism. The substance stimulated the increased secretions of adrenal medulla, which would put the victim's body into a state of intense readiness for immediate action, and the pituitary gland, which influenced the levels of testosterone in the body's system.

While not one-hundred percent effective, the substance would cause its victims to fall into a state of inconsolable homicidal rage for a short period of time in about ninety-five percent of cases. In females, it was found to be less effective though not as much as it had been expected. The end result was a Plasmid that could effectively put any Splicer into a state of rage that would cause said denizen to attack and kill anything within eyesight. Naturally, the eggheads called the Plasmid "Hypnotize".

However, that was only the beginning of the story of the plants. Behind the scenes, one man had seen something else in the substance's properties. That man was Suchong. Working with Tenenbaum and Alexander, Suchong theorized that he could tweak the substance to work for much longer and in very specific circumstances. However, it was Alexander that beat him to the punch.

Using a modified version of the substance and combining it with mental conditioning that bound the victim to desire to protect another specific victim, with whom said victim shared a forced unbreakable physiological bond that would kill him if he failed to stay near the latter and protect her life at all costs, Alexander invented the original version, or "Alpha Series", of a revolutionary mechanical-biological hybrid weapon called the "Alpha Series Big Daddy". The name "Big Daddy" was a slang term used by Alexander's own lab assistants to describe those of us that had been unfortunate enough to be forced into the experimental diving suits of the Alpha Series line of Little Sister Protectors.

The poor bastards of the Mass Production Models had been physical grafted into their suits, making it lethal and impossible to remove them from their prisons. However, while it was not lethal for us to remove our suits, that did not mean that Fontaine Futuristics had not made some sadistic modifications to the diving suits to ensure that we would not desire to escape them. The Intravenous Lines that connected the First Aid Reserve Tank and the EVE Reserve Tank to our physical, God-given bodies were extremely painful to disconnect and I had seen one poor soul try to escape his Alpha Series suit only to incorrectly remove the line for the EVE Reserve Tank. He bled out within seconds.

In addition, the large iconic "face" of our kind was deceptive. The copper layer was only the outer layer. The helmet was securely fastened to what was known as a "corset", which was essentially the base that the helmet would rest upon and connect to the rest of the suit. The suit itself was one-piece just as all Standard Diving Dresses were. However, in our case, in addition to the "inner collar" or bib that was pulled up through the corset and covered our necks, a layer of special material was placed over our heads that covered everything except our mouth and eyes.

This material was fastened to the inner collar. However, before it was placed over our heads, a coating of ADAM was spread over our freshly shaved skin. The ADAM broke down the layer of skin and when the thin layer of material was placed against it, the skin literally grew into it like plant roots. While it was not impossible or lethal if done correctly, it was catastrophically painful to remove our suits.

With our suits and the genetic cocktail forced into us, we were a formidable force the likes of which had never been seen in Rapture up until our debut. It was an ingeniously simple system. Whenever our bonded Little Sister felt endangered, she would either scream or let out one of the phrases that she had been conditioned to say by Tenenbaum and Suchong. That scream or phrase would trigger a physiological reaction inside us that was partially due to mental conditioning and the genetic modification forced into us.

What to us felt like a surge of maddening homicidal rage entering our minds was actually the modified substance found in the polyps. The substance was introduced into our system upon the trigger of our Little Sister's cries of distress. However, it was a controlled and self-recycling release, which meant that we could remain in such a state indefinitely. Essentially, the combination of mental conditioning and the modified substance forced our minds to be consumed with homicidal aggression while our bodies were sent into self-renewing overdrive.

Both Johnny Topside and I found it to be interesting that Andrew Ryan allowed our existence in what he affectionately referred to as "my city". After all, we were the ultimate betrayal of his precious beliefs. In the city of "where the great would not be constrained by the small", the most powerful beings or _the great_, the Big Daddies, were slaves/constrained to/by its weakest or _the small_, the Little Sisters.

However, those of us in the Alpha Series soon found that our bodies could build up a natural resistance to the substance and its effects. Over time, we trained our bodies to be able to control the release of the substance that controlled our Protector Instincts. While our bonded partners could still override our built-up control, we were soon able to harness our rage and then wield it thanks to our unique retention of freewill. The Tin Men were never able to harness their own Protector Response because they were physically and mentally incapable of such a task.

Ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of polyps growing along my left arm beneath my suit, I willed genetic flames to replace the Hypnotize Plasmid's polyp and then moved forward to pursue the retreating armored goddess. However, when I entered the backroom, I did not find what I had been expecting.

The various small tables around the small stage that still had a piano in the far left corner were still intact though a few were on the ground and some were jumbled together near the far back wall. Against the purple cloth of the wall behind the stage was a neon sign that had the words "The Limbo Room". The words "The" and "Room" were in blue and the word "Limbo" was white with a blue outline. Around the word "Limbo" was a red square outline and a large musical note.

Against the wall behind the stage on the far right was an old record playing machine. Hanging from the ceiling were several lights that vaguely resembled upside down layered cakes. Combined with the clamshell lights along the far left wall that were illuminating various faded advertisement posters, the lights bathed the room in a low red light.

The spotlights were still functional and illuminating the stage. There, I saw the broken bodies of two Splicers that had apparently been dancing together on stage. Their mangled forms were now in a pile to the right of the form of the Elite Big Sister where she was lying against the side of the stage and hunched over into the center of the spotlight. Their ADAM-rich blood was spilling out of multiple wounds that appeared to be bite marks. Confused, I slowly moved closer. When I approached, Jennifer slowly turned her head to look at me.

I was taken aback as I saw that her lips and cheeks were covered with the blood of the Splicers that she had apparently been able to take down even in her weakened state. I realized that she had been too weak to use her needle to extract the ADAM from their bodies so she had instead used her unnaturally sharp and potent canines to rip open their bodies. This was lost to me however as I saw that there was noticeably more blood in a pool near her right hand. Moreover, she appeared to be doing something with the pool of blood and her right index finger. She was using her right index finger to make intentional patterns in the center of the spotlight and would occasionally stick her finger in the collected pool of fresh blood before returning to what she was doing in the center of the stage.

The apex predator made no attempt to flee as I inched my way closer to see what she was doing. I saw it in her eyes as she laid the left side of her head down onto the filthy wooden surface of the stage just to the left of her little work area in the center of the former dance floor. It was over for her. The young woman was incapable of continuing the fight due to both her physical and mental exhaustion. It was over. I had won. The apex predator in Rapture was me.

"_My job is done, old man. If you wish to save this girl, now is your chance._"

The hellish red light of my segmented eye and auxiliary lights returned to emitting their calm golden yellow as I felt the monster going back into his cage. The heartbreaking sight of Jennifer's broken form before me caused me to let out a long-winded mournful cry in my guttural Alpha Series voice. I was grateful that Subject Delta had not killed Jennifer but I was still infuriated about what he had done to the poor girl. Regardless, the monster had indeed broken her willingness to fight. Perhaps now we could reason with her.

Aware of my thoughts, my companion requested, "Put me down, Daddy." I obliged by kneeling down enough for her to dismount and then stood as she walked over to her fallen sister. The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister smiled at Jennifer as she climbed up onto the stage. After making her way past the pool of blood and the mangled bodies of the Splicers, Eleanor sat down with her bruised and sore-covered legs crossed, though the casual observer would not have been able to tell because the hem of her dress covered up her legs when she sat down, just beyond where Jennifer was still working.

I moved until I was standing on the other side of the source of light so I would not interrupt her. My heart ached even more so when I saw that she was drawing little cartoons like those that I had seen Little Sisters draw all those years ago. She had drawn a Little Sister, a Sun, a few flowers, and a pair of angry eyes that she had then crossed out. In the outer part of the circle of childish doodles, she had written various physics equations though I could not identify them.

There was a blank space in the center of her work. As I watched, she finished the drawing of one last flower and then moved her right hand back to the pool of blood. After collecting enough blood from the diminished pool on the tip of her index finger, Jennifer moved her hand to the center of her work. I watched spellbound as she lowered her gloved digit down to the wooden surface of the stage and began to draw something that clearly meant the world to her judging by the cautious, careful nature of her movements as if it meant life or death if she drew the object correctly or not.

Ever so slowly, she carefully made a thin line that went up at angle. After collecting the last amount of blood that she had collected on her finger, she returned and made a thicker line to the right of the first that also went up at the mirror opposite angle of the first so that the two lines connected at a point to form a large "Λ". I cringed. It was the Greek uppercase symbol of Lambda; the designation of her Alpha Series Protector and her "Daddy".

I paused. I had never thought about what the Alpha Series Little Sister went through should her bond with her Big Daddy be severed. Eleanor had gone through it as well though she had weathered it for the most part though even she was noticeably unbalanced as a result of whatever hellish torture the severed bond had put her through. Something finally dawned on me as I observed the two gatherers before me.

Eleanor was unbalanced and I had been revived, thus our bond had been at least partially reestablished. I did not know how bad she was before I was revived but I had to assume that it was like she was now only far worse. Her obsession with me was most likely the only thing keeping her mind in one piece during my absence. Considering that she loved me in a way that I was only just now coming to terms with, Eleanor was likely affected even worse by my demise than her sisters had been affected by the demise of their Big Daddies.

Jennifer laid her right hand palm-down next to the symbol of her father and then stared at it with a distant, longing expression. I grunted softly, "Jennifer?" Her viper-like eyes glanced up at me with a distant look as if she was miles away. I asked, "Hey...how are you Little One?"

She corrected me with an edged tone that was deadpan and filled with intelligence, "You mean to ask 'how am I feeling'…right Papa Delta?"

I smiled beneath my emotionless copper face as I knelt down so that I was not towering above her. Then, I replied with my Alpha Series voice, "Yes…I'm sorry Jennifer. I never wanted to hurt you."

She returned to staring at the symbol of her Big Daddy Protector as she replied, "You never do Papa Delta…"

She trailed off, leaving me puzzled about what she meant. I started, "I…I…don't…"

The staggeringly intelligent young woman interrupted, "You've been gone for so long…"

I remarked apologetically, "I know…I'm sorry. Sofia killed me…"

She caught me off guard when she asked with a puzzled tone as she looked back up at me, this time with renewed strength, "She…you too…Papa Delta?"

Confused, I started, "Too…what?"

From behind me Subject Alpha remarked, "Sofia Lamb killed us, sir."

I turned around to see him standing in the threshold of the entrance to the backroom. In his left hand he was holding Jennifer's helmet, which he had somehow managed to repair in the short amount of time that he must have had. In his right hand, he was holding his heavily modified Prototype Rivet Gun but there were instantly noticeable new modifications to the weathered industrial-grade tool turned weapon.

A reinforced steel alloy barrel that was the length of the weapon itself had been added to the end of the Rivet Gun's original muzzle. The tubes of the "Heat Recycle Upgrade" had been lengthened to reach the new muzzle. In addition, the pressurized nozzle had also been relocated to the new muzzle. A further modification was a much larger compressed air tank in place of the original one.

In effect, my brother had solved the penetration issue that had prevented his favored weapon from being effective against Jennifer. The longer barrel coupled with the greater pressure of the new tank not only increased the penetration of the rivets but also made the Prototype Rivet Gun far more accurate than the snub-nose barrel and original tank had granted it.

I teased my brother, "Ready to go elephant hunting?"

He moved towards me as he grunted, "Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win."

Eleanor asked through the Little Sister, "Sun Tzu…Papa Alpha?"

He replied, "Correct, Miss Eleanor."

Walking past me, he made his way to Jennifer. Slowly, he presented her repaired helmet to her and then placed it on a nearby table. Jennifer smiled slightly before she remarked with a low deadpan tone, "Thank you, Papa Alpha."

My brother replied with his Alpha Series voice, "Anytime kid."

I questioned him, "What did you mean when you said that Sofia killed us?" My brother turned his entire body to face me and silently looked at me through his segmented eye for a moment as if deciding whether or not it was the time to explain.

Then, he informed me, "After the Civil War…there were still a few of us left…Subject Lambda was one…good thing about rabid dogs, sir,…they sooner eat the weakest among themselves rather than the healthy bull and the calf…that is until one day…the rabid dogs became wolves…it was Sofia Lamb. Sofia Lamb and her Splicers hunted us down like animals that day…killed us off one by one until there was only Emily and myself left. She knew that she could never control us like she could control the Tin Men or the Splicers…we were the last part of Rapture that she could not manipulate with her petty tricks or her control over Rapture's Pheromone System…in her mind, we were black sheep that didn't fit in her little dream world…the lumbering metal monsters that fought for no one and cared about nothing except our Little Sisters. Emily and I had to go into hiding…I never saw any of the surviving Little Ones that we protected again until Lamb captured us and had us taken to Persephone."

"She killed papa…"

I turned back to look at Jennifer as she began to speak. The young girl looked at me as she displayed visible emotion for the first time since we had been reunited. Her predatory eyes were drowning in sorrow as she said, "…I had no one after she took away the one person that I thought would always be by my side…" She lifted her gloved right hand up and cupped the left cheek of the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister and continued, "…no one except my sisters."

Eleanor raised her tiny left hand up and pressed its palm against the top of Jennifer's much larger, bloodied, gloved hand. The young woman continued, "Sofia underestimates us. She thinks that we are just more toy soldiers that she can make stand in line and march whenever she tells us to. We all hate her…what she did to us…to our daddies…then turned us into monsters…killers. We have just been waiting for her to slip…make her feel what she did to our papas…to us…give her a taste of what it feels like to be treated like an animal."

I asked, "If that is true, why did you attack us?"

She moved her right thumb along the Little Sister's cheek before she explained, "Lamb said that you and Papa Alpha were like…them…the mad daddies…and you were killing our sisters."

I replied with a low tone, "I would never hurt one of you."

She remarked, "Of course not, Papa Delta. You wouldn't but a broken you would kill anything in your path."

I assured her, "I am not broken yet."

My brother added, "My mind is still my own."

Jennifer smiled as she lowered her hand from Eleanor's cheek and then said, "I know that now. Just another one of the bitch's tricks. She overplayed her hand this time..." The armored goddess reached for her helmet with a determined look in her viper-like eyes. As she picked up her "face", the Elite Big Sister informed us, "I wish to join you and take down the bitch who killed my father."

I smiled as I realized that yet another Big Sister had been "saved" and then replied, "It's good to have you back, Jennifer. Listen it is too dangerous for you to be seen with us…for now. I need you to…"

Before I could tell her to join the Big Sister from Ryan Amusements, Jennifer showed her old stubbornness as she interrupted, "I will hear none of that, Papa Delta. I will not hide my allegiance from Lamb. I will not hide in the shadows. I want her to know. I want her to regret the day that she forced me into this…prison. When the walls coming crashing down around her, I want Lamb to know who it was that destroyed everything that she held dear."

The sickening crunching of bone filled the air as Jennifer reached over and ripped one of the Splicer's hands clean off its body with her right hand. A river of fresh blood flowed out of the gaping hole. After collecting some of the iron-rich liquid on her right index finger, the young woman drew the bloody symbol of her Alpha Series Big Daddy Protector "Λ" in the center of her bulbous face around the round porthole that was her eye.

As she placed her marked helmet back over her real face, Jennifer said, "In the name of my father, I swear my allegiance."

Knowing better than to try to argue against her bullheaded stubbornness, I replied, "I accept your declaration of allegiance." A loud click filled the air as Jennifer finished locking her helmet back into place.

Smiling darkly, Eleanor stood, balled her tiny left hand into a fist, and then raised it up into the air. I was confused until the little girl yelled as loud as her tiny frame could manage, "Vive la Révolution sœur!" (Long live the sister Revolution!)

My built-in radio activated and moments later the Southern accented voice of Sinclair remarked, "You're just makin' all sorts of new friends aren't you kid?" I grunted in response. He laughed and then said, "Hey, no argument here. Revolutions are great for business if one plays their cards right. Now, get what you need for that ol' concoction that you need to bust through that Security Door in front of my hotel and then get back there. Remember son, without that key from Gracie we can't get the train movin' and that means that we're stuck here."

I grunted in response. My radio fell silent and I motioned for Eleanor to climb back onto her throne. My companion giggled in delight and quickly climbed back up when I knelled for her. As I stood back upright, Jennifer informed me, "There is a Power to the People Machine in the first backroom behind the stage. You should go modify your weapon Papa Delta. I'll be waiting for you here."

I decided that it was better to not argue and simply made my way to the Power to the People Machine in the backroom. There, I found a modestly sized room that had a large window for the right wall that allowed a view of the front room where the checkout counter was located. There was a raided desk against the wall opposite the entrance. I entered the room to find the machine against the front wall just to the left of the entrance. Beyond the machine were several filing cabinets against the left wall and a small storage crate that was against the wall opposite the Power to the People Machine.

The floor was covered with faded brown newspapers, wooden boards, and pieces of concrete rubble as a result of the partially collapsed ceiling. Ignoring the debris, I moved to stand before the machine. As I did, I tried to think of another way I could upgrade my already formidable drill. I had already upgraded it with a lubrication system that had the nasty side effect of adding salt to the drill bit's grooves due to the salt water that it used for the lubricant. I had also placed augers in the available slots to increase my drill's damage output. Throwing reality out the window, I had also managed to outfit the industrial-grade mining tool with an electromagnetic dynamo that repulsed incoming projectiles away from me and back towards the assailant. What could I possibly add to my already heavily modified drill?

I activated the machine as I removed my drill from its mount along my right arm, noting that it was even more difficult to remove it this time. The Power to the People Machine opened up and I placed my weaponized tool down onto the workbench-like area as I surveyed the contents that I had to work with. I was disappointed when I saw that all the machine had to offer was various pieces that would have helped to upgrade the typical Splicer weaponry such as revolvers, Thompson Submachine Guns, and shotguns.

None of the parts seemed to offer any feasible means of upgrading my drill. However, remembering the lubrication upgrade, I was suddenly struck by inspiration. The generator for electromagnetic dynamo was putting out electricity and there was salt water coating the drill bit whenever it started turning. If I attached another wire that ran from the generator to the bit itself, the salt water would effectively electrify my drill whenever I revved it up. I could instantly short out a machine without expending EVE using my Electro Bolt Plasmid. In addition, any Splicer that was foolish enough to get within striking distance of my drill would literally be in store for a nasty shock.

The only downside to this was that I would eventually find it impossible to remove my drill from its mounts on my right arm due to the combination of blood and electrified salt water that would, in effect, be electroplating the mounts to the point that the only way to remove my drill would be to use a cutting torch. Sensing my thoughts, Eleanor begged me from where she was riding on my back, "Daddy, no you don't have to do this. Please…you don't have to turn yourself into a monster just to protect me!"

I mentally sighed and then grunted in response, "If that is what it takes, I will do it Eleanor. It is the least I can do to make up for failing you. Besides, in the amount of time that it would take for the mounts to fuse solid, I will have surely reached you. Don't worry, kid."

She replied, "Just be careful, Johnny. Tenenbaum said that she could undo the genetic damage but that will not do you any good if you seal yourself inside your suit."

I smiled beneath the façade of Subject Delta as I soldered a new length of wire into place that ran from the generator to the drill bit itself. Once my modification was complete, I retrieved my drill and started to mount it back into place along my right arm. As I did so, Eleanor commented, "Actually…Father I have been thinking…when Tenenbaum removes your genetic modifications…I think we should leave Sports Boost and Drill Power in your genetic code."

Confused, I asked, "Why would I want to do that?"

She replied shamelessly, "For me…a girl has needs after all and why not make sure that you are equipped to satisfy them?"

As happy as I was that my Eleanor was back to her old self, I still remarked with an exasperated tone, "Eleanor…"

However, she continued, "You know, I have even heard about a line of Gene Tonics that increases the size of a man's…"

I interrupted with a defensive tone, "Hey! It is not the size, it is how you use it!"

I heard the little girl pat the top of my copper diving helmet several times before she said, "Aw, Johnny that is so cute…but, seriously, why not be well equipped and be able to wield it like an expert?"

As I closed the machine back up, I asked, "You know what this is making you sound like…right?"

Eleanor replied defensively, "A hormonally and ADAM supercharged young woman that has been stuck at the bottom of the fucking ocean in a decaying shit hole with absolutely no way to adequately satisfy her biological urges since she was a little girl? I've been monitored every fucking minute of every fucking day by that bitch that dares to call herself my mother ever since your death, Father."

Moved, I started, "Eleanor…"

I heard the little girl's tiny arms wrap around my armored head as she asked with a pathetic, hurt puppy tone, "Please?"

Still uncomfortable with her request despite how much I desired to comfort her any way I could, I grunted, "Eleanor…I…"

However, before I could finish, my companion suddenly removed her arms and started to clap happily as she remarked, "Yay! Thank you Daddy!"

Trying to correct her, I started, "I actually didn't agree to…"

She interrupted me again as she said with a happy, almost singsong edged voice, "Hop hop, Daddy! Papa Alpha and Sister Jennifer are waiting for us!" Letting out a loud, irritated grunt, I left the office and began to make my way back towards the two protectors that were waiting for me.


	18. Chapter 18: Knock! Knock!

Ch. 18: Knock! Knock!

A.N.:

Everyone I am so sorry.

I have not been feeling well lately. One of my friends came home from a trip overseas and he brought something with him. I thought it was the flu but then my fever spiked so high that I ended up in the hospital.

I was delirious for a few days but they let me have my laptop there in the room so I had typed up the new chapters for my stories. However, when my fever finally went down, I found that all the work had been a waste of time because it was gibberish.

So, I have been trying to get the chapters typed back up for the past few weeks. I just felt so weak and I got exhausted so quickly that I couldn't get very much done. I am over it now I think though so that should be the end of that. I got this far in the new chapter and thought that it has been long enough since I updated for a short chapter to be better than nothing.

As an act of contrition, the next chapter may contain mature themes involving Eleanor…maybe.

Anyway,

Thank you for the support and not complaining about how long it has taken for the update.

Read and review if you want.

* * *

Upon exiting the back area, I found my two heavily armored companions waiting for me. I grunted, "Let's get the ingredients for the Thermite mixture."

With her voice muffled by her repaired helmet, Jennifer asked, "Thermite? Papa Delta have you gone mad?"

I laughed with my repeated grunts before I assured her, "Only a crude mixture Jen. Don't worry, I'm not crazy yet. We need to get through that Fire Door at the Sinclair Deluxe and Thermite is the only thing that will work without having to take down half of The Drop to do it."

After being silent for a moment, the armored young woman asked, "Just where exactly do you plan on finding the ingredients to make your mixture? This city is a shit hole."

Walking towards the exit, I grunted, "Stop being so negative, Jennifer."

From where she was on my back, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister remarked, "Indeed. Come now, sister, they said that death was permanent and I proved that notion wrong as you can plainly see. Mixing up a little Devil's Fire is certainly not unfeasible at this point."

As I made my way back into the front room, Jennifer asked from behind me, "How are you doing that, Eleanor?"

I heard my bonded companion giggle before she replied with an intentionally childish tone, "How am I doing what? Big Sister Eleanor is in the House Upsidedown silly."

As they continued, I went through what I needed to make the Thermite. Thermite was more of a "canvas term" that stood in for a family of mixtures. Our best bet was the common Iron (III) Oxide Thermite. Time was not on our side and so our mixture would be far from industrial-grade but, given the circumstances, that could not be helped. The ingredients, essentially rust and aluminum in powder form, were not the issue that we were faced with. The problem was that the reaction would not occur unless the two ingredients were forcibly intertwined under pressure when the process started. If the two powders were not under pressure when they were ignited, the reaction would not take place.

How would we be able to put the two ingredients under such pressure? Upon exiting the Limbo Room, I addressed my allies with my Alpha Series voice, "Rust and aluminum…find some that can be crushed into powder. Time is not on our side here." Luckily, the broken residents of Skid Row had fled upon seeing the conclusion of the fight between Jennifer and Subject Delta as if they were rats fleeing from a sinking ship. While this was telling of the nature of Sofia's control over the grotesque remnants of the population of Rapture, their willingness to abandon their devotion to her in the name of self-preservation meant that the Pheromone Control System that Andrew Ryan had been persuaded to install in the city's Ventilation System to control spliced citizens was not functional, I would address that in due time.

In the meantime, the absence of Splicers made our search for the ingredients for the Thermite less difficult than would have otherwise been the case. The rust and aluminum came from the horrifyingly deteriorated infrastructure of Skid Row. Before, I had been concerned for The Drop, and by extension the rest of Rapture. Even with proper maintenance, the internal skeleton of Rapture would not have outlasted Andrew Ryan himself had the Civil War not claimed his life along with the sanity of those who survived to tend to the war-torn city. The weight-bearing aluminum beams and exterior skin that kept Rapture "standing" were immune to the ravages of time and salt water. However, the architects of the city had overlooked a critical detail.

The internal skeleton of the city was comprised of a combination of steel, bronze, copper, and other metals to a lesser extent. Aluminum was perfect on paper for the city. It was lightweight, easy to forge and shape, and was easily accounted for by Ryan's façade interest in aircraft on the surface had the government watchdogs been monitoring him. Unlike most metals, aluminum has a very high resistance to corrosion. However, aluminum has an Achilles's Heel: weight-bearing. Aluminum does not perform well under immense weight as it tends to warp and bend under pressure rather than stand firm like steel.

The city would rot from the inside out until the aluminum buildings would not be able to hold up their own weight due to their heavily damaged interiors. One building at a time, the dead city would become a pile of aluminum, rust, and glass on the ocean floor. Over time, the buildings would be consumed by the subduction zone located at the bottom of the nearby ocean trench. Rapture would become a myth until it finally ceased to exist in either the tangible or intangible world.

Sofia was no fool. Whatever she was planning to do with Eleanor would not see its ultimate fruition inside the walls of Rapture. She was aware that the city only had a few years left until it finally succumbed to the damage of time and the Civil War. Optimistically, the city had five years left at the most. However, the realistic expectation, based upon what I had seen so far, was that the city had less than few months left with a year being the maximum. The city would have already been a stain on the bottom of the ocean floor had it not been for the Rosie Mass Production Models.

_I am become time, the destroyer of worlds. _Once again, that phrase was proving to be more powerful than the god-like powers of Rapture and the mad dreams of twisted abominations born within its walls.

We regrouped before the damaged curved wall of glass beyond The Limbo Room. The child-sized piles of scrap metal were beside each other before us. After standing before them for a few moments, Jennifer asked, "What is wrong, Papa Delta?"

Riled from my thoughts, I assured her, "Nothing, Jennifer. I was just trying to think of a way to apply and keep enough pressure on the two materials to allow the reaction to take place. After all, that is what Thermite is: aluminum and rust that are under immense pressure when they are ignited."

Eleanor, having been thinking through the problem herself, started to suggest, "Well, according to Newton's Second Law, force is equal to mass multiplied by acceleration. Pressure is the force applied perpendicular to the surface of an object per unit area. So, all we have to do is…"

However, interrupting my daughter, Jennifer explained simply with a slightly muffled and steady voice, "You can use your Telekinesis Plasmid to force the two together and then I can use my Incinerate! Plasmid to ignite them."

Clearly stunned by being upstaged, Eleanor remarked, "But…but…I…that's my…" Then, I heard her scream internally through our bond.

Admitting that she had purposed an excellent suggestion, I placed my massive gauntlet-encased left hand on Jennifer's right shoulder as I grunted, "Great idea, sweetie."

However, my gesture only made Eleanor scream even louder. Nearly deaf from the ear-shattering screaming of my beloved bonded daughter, I said through our bond, "_Eleanor, please calm down._"

She finally stopped screaming and then remarked, "_I am the smart one! That is how I contribute! That little bitch cannot just take my place like that!_"

I assured her, "_Eleanor, she could never replace you. Besides, you contribute in other ways. If it wasn't for you, I would be dead right now._"

The beautiful young woman was silent for a moment before she said with a downtrodden tone, "_I don't want to be a freak who uses her closest friend and father figure as if he was a golem for her escape. I don't want to be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, Father. I want us to be together…to be equals…I don't want to be using you even if it is unintentional._"

I was stunned for a moment. Using me? Is that what she was afraid of doing or at least making me think that she was using me? As my bonded Little Sister, it was true that Eleanor could indeed control me if she desired to do so. However, she had never used me and she certainly was not using me now.

I replied with my weathered human voice, "_We are equals, Eleanor. Don't ever think any different. I treat the others with kindness but I would sooner die again than have anyone other than you by my side._"

The pale brunette's cheeks became flushed briefly as I felt a surge of stunned bliss emanate from her through our bond. I saw the innocent, uncorrupted child that I had protected all those years ago. Her eyes were a soft, warm blue that were filled with wonder and curiosity. However, seconds later, she smirked as her eyes sharpened and became a frigid blue before she said with an edged tone, "_Jennifer seems to be taking a shine you, Daddy. Would Daddy like to watch the two of our sweet, tight, firm bodies intertwine as we caress each other until he takes us both like the bad little girls that we are? Would Daddy like to punish the bad little girls and make them beg for it on their knees like good little girls?_"

Mortified, I remarked, "_Eleanor!_"

She ignored me as she continued, "_As big as you are, I don't think I could fit you in my tiny little mouth, Daddy. You would have to make me gag on it as you thrust it down my throat. Would Daddy like to look into his daughter's eyes as she gagged on his…_"

More horrified than ever, I interrupted her, "_Eleanor stop!_"

Clearly marveling at the effect her words were having, the cruel, authoritarian side of my daughter continued with a glint of red light visible in her blue eyes, "_Don't try to hide your darker thoughts from me, Father. I know all about those pent up desires of yours. Dirty old man…_"

Looking away, I said in a low tone, "_Don't toy with my feelings._"

Her soft yet strong right hand gripped my chin and she gently turned me back to face her. Due to her unnatural height, she was able to look me in the eyes. Her enchanting vibrant blue eyes were now a mixture of warmth and frigid authority that was nearly hypnotic and was certainly enough to drive any ordinary individual to fall under her spell. However, there was a shadow of deep-rooted sorrow behind the hypnotic pools of blue that was born of the soul-crushing misery of her cruel life. I had seen the shadow before but, this time, I saw that there was a glimmer of hopeful rejuvenation that had taken root in the edges of her eyes and was slowly spreading inwards.

Eleanor released her grip on my chin and then slowly closed the short distance between us as she simultaneously turned her body until she was curled up against my chest on her left side with the left side of her head resting just below my neck. The intense heat radiating from her body felt like a painless roaring inferno but, due to the absence of any pain, her unnaturally hot frame felt very soothing against my own.

Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around the unimaginably powerful young woman that was both every man's dream and every man's worst nightmare. Whatever madness had caused Sofia Lamb to twist Eleanor into the beautiful creature that now rested against my chest in the world created by our forced physiological bond was beyond my comprehension. All of her attributes were already at inhuman levels of perfection yet the madwoman was still forcing ADAM into my daughter at an alarmingly increasing rate.

What possible good could come from a being like Eleanor? What was Sofia trying to accomplish? Whatever pipedream she was trying to achieve clearly was important enough to the psychiatrist to manipulate large numbers of her brainwashed followers to sacrifice their lives with the promises of "Salvation". That level of commitment indicated that there would be no talking sense into Sofia. As far as the elder Lamb was concerned, she had already taken the leap and was past the point of no return.

"_Would you love me more if I was not a freak, Father?_"

I pulled her in closer and then placed my chin on top of her head as I assured her, "_You're not a freak, kid. You are the most beautiful creature that I have ever seen. I don't care what you are, Eleanor. Love is internal, not external. As long as there is love, it does not matter what the rest of the world thinks._"

Before I even felt that she had moved, Eleanor pressed her incredibly soft lips against my own at an angle. Caught off guard, my body reacted before any latent hesitation could mobilize inside my mind. This time, I noticed that Eleanor "tasted" spicy to me even though that was impossible. As we continued to kiss, her taste took on the feeling of an electric current. Moments later, when she withdrew from me, I remarked, "_That was…interesting._" She winked at me in response.

Moments later as we were making our way back to the entrance to Skid Row with the powdered remains of the aluminum and rust held securely in the Pneumo that had been to the left of the entrance to the Limbo Room, my built-in shortwave radio came to life as Sofia lectured me, "For Grace, the paradise of Andrew Ryan was most unkind. She spoke against him in song and he had her blacklisted. It left her penny-less. But in The Family, she has found hope; a reason to draw breath. Ask yourself Delta, do you deserve to take it from her?"

I ignored the taunt of my murderer once again as I continued towards the exit. When we neared the large supporting jack in front of what remained of the pharmacy, The Drop's Public Service Announcement System crackled to life and then Gracie announced, "The Tin Daddy is not a man! It is half dog and half devil; made by Andrew Ryan to condemn our children to a walking death!"

I mentally sighed. I had become accustomed to being seen as a monster by the city's population; a towering butcher that was clad in a diving suit; the faithful watchdog of a ghoulish little girl. Sofia seemed content with poking the dead horse with a stick and her faithful mouthpiece seemed content to voice her ill-informed hatred for not only me but all of the Big Daddies. They reminded me a little of Hitler and his Propaganda Minster Joseph Goebbles with Sofia's grand plan for "paradise" and Gracie's voice being the instrument by which Sofia spread her message.

Upon exiting Skid Row and entering the tunnel, I heard a young woman crying. With Alpha 1 behind me carrying the upside down Pneumo in his free left hand and Jennifer to the left of him, we continued forward. I reached the abandoned refrigeration unit and saw that two red metal fuel containers had been placed in the middle of a pool of petrol. Further down the tunnel, I saw a heavily bandaged individual that I could only assume had once been a woman due to the feminine shape of the frame. Behind the Splicer, I saw that the previously inaccessible path to the Sinclair Deluxe had been made accessible by The Drop's population while we had been in Skid Row.

Showing a trace of mental stability, the bandaged Splicer used Incinerate! to ignite the petrol before retreating towards the far end of the tunnel. A broken cackle escaped the woman as the flammable substance quickly succumbed to the flames. I watched the flames overtake the containers with a macabre fascination before I flattened my gloved left hand towards the containers so that my palm was facing them. Then, after willing them up into the air, I sent the flaming objects flying towards the retreating Splicer.

The containers impacted the woman and detonated in a fiery explosion that sent metal shrapnel through the air in all directions. My tactic backfired as the entire tunnel shook as the metal and glass structure groaned loudly in protest. The curved glass ceiling of the section of the tunnel where the explosion had taken place was now alarmingly cracked. Sea water was dripping through the cracks that seemed to be slowly spreading to the undamaged sections around them. Luckily, the tunnel continued to hold up but I did not know for how much longer.

Even before the petrol-fueled flames died down, a female Thuggish Splicer clad in a ruined white dress screamed as she ran towards us from the area around King Pawn with what looked like a small wooden post that had a small brass pulley on the end above her head. The deranged woman's mouth was open, which revealed the horribly decayed remains of the few teeth that she had left within her sickly green mouth. As if in her own world and thus ignorant of the wall of flame in front of her, the Splicer ran into the ignited oil slick and immediately was consumed by the hungry flames.

Shocked by suddenly being forced back into reality due to the agony that was racking her body, the denizen stumbled a few steps before completely losing her footing. She fell face forward onto the unforgiving metal floor of the tunnel as her mutated body was devoured by the flames. I forcibly suppressed the instinctive desires to want to know her name and who she had once been before Rapture's Nightmare had claimed her sanity and her humanity. Such desires had to be suppressed. Otherwise, one would drive him or herself to madness.

The damaged tunnel somehow managed to hold up for a long enough period of time for us to reach the far end. There, above the operational watertight Security Door, was a crudely made sign with "Sinclair Deluxe" written in black letters. As the door's aged mechanism struggled to raise the watertight door, I heard a man laugh somewhere ahead of us. The laugh was interrupted by the sound of small arms fire and various angry cries.

However, I did not have time to try to understand the source of the chaos as the sound of cracking glass erupted behind us. We had no sooner exited the tunnel before the cracked glass ceiling submitted to the pressure of the Atlantic Ocean. The sound of an alarm that had been muffled and distorted by the corruption of time filled the dust-filled air of The Drop as the watertight Security Door slammed shut behind us.

Remembering that Subject Delta had destroyed the Security Door to the area around King Pawn, a brief stab of fear entered my mind as I realized that there was nothing to stop the surge of icy Atlantic water as it plowed through the downtown section of Pauper's Drop. The pumps in The Drop were already struggling to keep the makeshift former housing of the Atlantic Express's workers from flooding completely. This new surge of sea water would easily overpower them. My mind raced as I tried to remember if there was a watertight door between the downtown area and the area around the Fishbowl Diner. I knew that there was a door between there and the Sinclair Deluxe. However, I did not recall there being one that would prevent the flood from reaching the diner.

How long did we have until the train station was made inaccessible? The watertight security doors would seal shut and prevent us from being able to return to the station. The remains of my human face cringed beneath the emotionless copper face of the monster as I realized that we were out of time and the only option to get the genetic key from Gracie was nothing short of an assault on the likely fortified Splicer nest that was the Sinclair Deluxe.

This was a Protector's worst nightmare. The multistory complex would provide the resident Splicers with tactical superiority as they could attack from nearly every direction. The dimly lit decaying corridors would provide the deranged individuals with a near endless supply of ambush points. There would not be an avenue of retreat once we entered the upper floors because other Splicers would be waiting for us if we tried to go back through the single crumbling hallway that connected the floors.

However, we had no choice but to press ahead. To the left and right of us, similar to the layout of the entrance to the downtown area, were two flights of concrete steps that led up to the tunnel that ran in front of the Sinclair Deluxe. In front of us against the oxidized brass and mold-covered wall was an abandoned food cart. The sounds of fighting seemed to intensify as we began to ascend the left flight of stairs. My curiosity was admittedly aroused when I heard that some of the unaffiliated Splicers of The Drop had beaten us to assaulting the Sinclair Deluxe.

As we approached the landing, I heard a male Splicer yell, "You've got the space! Let us in!"

Over the sound of small arms fire, distorted human screams, and explosions, I heard a woman yell back, "Nonbelievers are not welcome!"

Moments later, my suspicions were confirmed as the watertight Security Door opened to reveal a scene of absolute chaos. Despite the flight of metal stairs before us that obstructed my view of the rest of the tunnel, I could already see five Leadhead Splicers in front of the right entrance to the Sinclair Deluxe. Two were women that were armed with crudely modified Thompson Submachine Guns that looked as though they were about to fall apart from lack of proper maintenance. The three men were armed with a revolver, a shotgun, and an equally abused Thompson.

Tracer fire filled the air and multiple spider web cracks were on the glass walls as the Splicers that were affiliated with Sofia Lamb and The Family, but had been unfortunate enough to be outside the fortified apartment complex when the structure's imposing Fire Door had slammed shut, were now apparently more than willing to sacrifice their lives to prevent any unaffiliated individuals from getting near their safe house.

It was almost a macabre fascination to study the behavior of the Splicers. Before now, I had merely treated them as if they were merely enemies to be cut down and then forgotten. However, now, I was beginning to understand that having a better idea about the nature of these poor broken individuals would greatly benefit me. Tenenbaum had described them as being "drug addicts" and "vicious animals". It was true that compared to the social outcasts and thugs that were the Splicers all those years ago, these creatures were only human in the vaguest sense.

However, they were still human beings beneath their spliced, grotesque appearance and ADAM madness. The scene playing out before me proved that they were not too far gone. They were willing to put aside their differences to coordinate an attack on The Family's safe house. Naturally, this was due to extraordinary circumstances, but it was proof that we were not as alone as I had originally thought. The city was indeed not under Lamb's spell outside of certain pockets of die hard followers. The rest of the city merely did its best to not earn the ire of Lamb's Followers, Big Daddies, and Big Sisters. If we continued to apply pressure, the city might have another Civil War on its hands.

As I reached the top of the short flight of stairs, I saw four Thuggish Splicers, three men and one woman, rushing towards the defending Leadhead Splicers. Behind the cannon fodder, I saw six Leadhead Splicers that were armed mostly with crudely repaired revolvers expect for one that was armed with a Thompson. The unaffiliated attackers clearly did not have the same access to equipment or modifications that Lamb's Followers did. However, that did not seem to faze them as they brazenly charged towards the defenders.

The Thuggish Splicers reached the Leadhead Splicers before the first man was cut down, or more like blown apart into large chunks, by the shotgun-wielding male Splicer. However, the remaining Thuggish Splicers brutally bludgeoned the shotgun-wielding defender to death with their improvised melee weapons of sections of lead pipe. Ignoring the blood and brain matter on their torn clothing and the glass walls around them, the pipe-wielding individuals turned and began to rush towards the unfazed defenders.

In a hail of lead, the Thuggish Splicers were cut down but not before the one of the women was cut down by the coordinated fire of the attacking Leadhead Splicers. In response, the man wielding the revolver retrieved a Molotov Cocktail from the small, torn bag that he had strapped to his back. Cackling like a madman, the Splicer ignited the soaked strip of cloth with genetic flames. As he threw the former wine bottle turned incendiary device, the deranged follower of Lamb yelled, "Burn heretics!" The cocktail landed in the center of the Leadhead Splicers. Consumed by flames, the individuals screamed in agony as they ran in different directions. None of them made it more than a few steps before they crumpled to the ground as their cooking bodies submitted to being burned alive.

As I moved towards the Sinclair Deluxe, the remaining defenders turned towards me before quickly retreating back into the lobby. We gave chase to them and upon entering the lobby, I grunted loudly as a hail of .38 and .50 caliber rounds impacted my armored fame. Even with Armored Shell, the powerful anti-material .50 caliber rounds easily penetrated my large frame and caused massive internal damage. Ignoring the agony of ruptured intestines, collapsed right lung, and several other damaged organs, and also the discomfort of the contents of my suit's First Aid Reserve Tank being pumped intravenously into my body to repair the damage, I let out a deafening guttural roar as I powered up my modified industrial-grade drill.

I began to stomp towards the Splicers where they had taken cover behind the check-in counter. Bright blue electrical arcs were emitting from my drill and a miasma was directly before its spinning bit. The incoming rounds were deflected back towards the Splicers by my drill's deflection field, much to their surprise and shock. As I reached the check-in counter, the last Thompson-wielding woman's head exploded from a center mass hit by Alpha's newly improved Prototype Rivet Gun.

Before the male Splicer armed with a revolver could retreat, I swung my razor sharp drill bit into his heavily bandaged and deformed skull. My drill easily removed a large chunk out of the right side of the man's skull. The disgusting remains of the man's brain was visible like the core and seed of a piece of fruit than one has taken a large bite out of but the Splicer merely continued to fire his revolver at me. With one last strike, I destroyed the Splicer's brain and his corpse crumpled to the dirty floor.

Turning my attention to the remaining Splicer, I saw him retreating through the white sliding door to the right of the ransacked shelves against the back wall behind the counter. However, before I could give chase, Jennifer jumped through the large, square-shaped opening in front of the check-in counter. As I watched, the nimble woman landed on her hands and feet but, within seconds of making contact with the floor, she stood and then used the immense strength of her legs to reach the open doorway before I could blink. The Splicer never had time to react before she used her powerful Telekinesis Plasmid to will his body back towards her. The man cried out in shock and misery as he found himself being skewered by the Elite Big Sister's large weaponized needle.

A sick suction sound filled the air as Jennifer drained the ADAM out of the Splicer to heal her goddess-like body. I turned and made my way through the sliding dual metal doors with the ornate glass circle in the center that allowed access to the main hallway. The large imposing Fire Door towered before me at the end of the hallway.

As I moved towards it, my built-in radio crackled to life and the southern accented voice of Sinclair filled the inside of my copper head as he remarked, "That little ruckus you caused has the entire Drop jumpin', son. Better get to Gracie on the double. The pumps are holding the flooding back for now and one of the Splicers had the spark of intelligence to dynamite the paths to downtown but this place is done for. Get that key from Gracie and let's hit the trail before this place drowns."

I mentally sighed in relief. With the paths to downtown blocked by rubble, we had nearly half an hour before the water would completely flood the rest of The Drop. Of course, we had to make it back to the train station before the watertight Security Doors sealed. However, we had more time now than what I had originally thought. My thoughts soon turned to something else: Gracie.

I could not just leave her here to slowly starve to death. The Security Doors would keep the Sinclair Deluxe from being flooded but they would also seal the former singer inside the apartment complex. I did not want to kill her over something as trivial as a simple misunderstanding. Nor did I want to leave her to slowly die a slow horrible death as her aged body ate itself. I would have to decide what to do when we reached her. For now, I had to focus on getting through The Family and their safe house.

As we stood before the large metal obstacle, I turned towards my brother and then used my Telekinesis Plasmid to lift the metal powders out of the Pneumo. I then turned back towards the door and moved the Thermite down the center of the giant barrier in a long, thin line from the top to the bottom. When the door's center was weakened, I would be able to bust through it with a Drill Dash.

Continuing to hold the Thermite in place, I started to move back towards the doors that were by the check-in counter. As I did, I grunted, "Don't look at it while it is burning, it is like looking directly at the Sun." My companions acknowledged me with their respective responses. Then, Jennifer willed a ball of genetic flame into the Thermite.

I had my eyes closed during the very brief reaction. The sound of hissing and a very bright flash that was visible even through my eyelids were the only detectible aspects of the Thermite reaction. However, that was normal for the mixture. A Thermite reaction was rapid and intense. When the intense light was no longer visible, I opened my eyes and surveyed the damage done to the Fire Door.

The Thermite had done its job perfectly. A narrow, uniform line had been cut straight through the thick door straight down the center from top to bottom. So clean was the line that it looked as if someone had taken a large surgical blade and cut a single incision down the center. I revved up my modified drill and then charged towards the barrier.

In an ear-shattering screech of metal-on-metal, my heavy frame impacted the weakened obstacle. The force of the impact was enough to send the two sections of the barrier flying back into the first floor of the hotel along with large sections of the surrounding wet concrete wall. In a cloud of dust, the heavy metal sections landed on the dirty tiled floor and vibrated the entire structure like a small earthquake.

As I calmly entered the fortified hotel, I bellowed with my Alpha Series Big Daddy voice loud enough to cause a ringing in my ears, "KNOCK! KNOCK!"


	19. Chapter 19: Sofia's Madness

Ch. 19: Sofia's Madness

* * *

A.N.:

So sorry for the wait everyone!

I am in a bad rut right now and I cannot seem to get any writing done. I did manage to get a chapter for one of my F.E.A.R. side stories done but that is it. I have been working on this for weeks and just couldn't get my mind to concentrate enough to get it done.

It doesn't really help that I have moved to the Xbox One either -_- My old 360 finally died on me so I upgraded to the new console. Now if only there were GAMES available for it I could actually play video games on it besides World of Tanks…which sadly is starting to lose its playability for me…and Dying Light. I miss BioShock 2 and F.E.A.R. 2 :(

Apologies but there is no lemon. I know some of you were waiting for it but it is not in this chapter. When there is a lemon, I always put a warning in the chapter title for the younger viewers who ignore the Mature-rating for the story.

I am doing some lemons in this story but my brain is not cooperating right now so it might be a little while before they happen. I think I am pulling myself out of my rut though so maintain faith please.

I am starting back at college on Wednesday, which is partially why I decided to update when I had such a short chapter done.

The other is the frustrating wait time -_- Trust me, I am just as frustrated. I have gone from publishing a chapter a week for nearly four years to one a month the past two update cycles. It is incredibly humiliating for me personally to have such crap updates.

So, please, bear with me until I can get back on schedule.

Read and review if you want. I hope the story is still worth it despite my failures.

* * *

Before me, I found the horribly deteriorated lobby of the Sinclair Deluxe. The bare metal frame of the elevator was directly across from me where it was nestled between the staircases that allowed access to the first floor. The stairs snaked around the elevator and, luckily for us, they were still standing. The ceiling that was three stories above our heads appeared to have once been either a stained glass dome or a clear glass dome that had been overgrown by algae and stained a sickly pale to dark shade of green. A section of the glass was cracked, which allowed sea water to cascade down to partially flood the center of the lobby.

Dozens of small butterflies that had delicate bright blue glowing wings were flying below the dome. I could not help but marvel at the blatant incompetence of the Splicers as I noticed that the reason why the butterflies were massed beneath the sickly green glass dome was a collection of light fixtures that were specifically made to attract insects. The Splicers had haphazardly mounted the lights and then connected them to small electrical collection strips. The dangerously overloaded electrical strips emitted sparks and were inches away from the sea water that was pouring into the structure via the cracked dome. That the water and electricity had not made contact with devastating results was nothing short of a miracle.

My frontal assault-style entrance had been the proverbial poking the nest with a stick. Before me, I saw two Thuggish Splicers, a woman in a moldy, torn formal dress and a man in a ripped business suit, who appeared to have been gathering sea water in makeshift buckets, drop the containers into the water and then grab their makeshift melee weapons. Meanwhile, from the second and third floors, Leadhead Splicers appeared and began to fire upon us with modified Thompson Submachine Guns.

Ignoring the pain of .50 caliber rounds penetrating my armor to rip through my body, I let out a rumbling roar as I stomped towards the two Splicers before me. The woman was armed with a section of lead pipe and the man was armed with what appeared to be the wooden leg of a large piece of furniture that had barbwire wrapped around the thicker end and tape wrapped around the thinner end to give the wielder a better grip. The woman charged at me from the right while the man charged towards me from the left.

The man made the blunder of running through the ankle-high pool of sea water to get to get to me. I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported fingertips of my gauntlet-encased left hand into his frame. The Splicer screamed in agony as his body was surrounded by a fountain of bright blue electrical arcs that seemed to wrap around his frame like vines protruding from the surface of the water. Moments later, his smoking corpse collapsed into the frigid Atlantic water.

The woman, clearly not distressed by the death of her comrade, continued to charge towards me. As she neared me, I swung the razor sharp tip of my drill into the left side of her ADAM-ravaged head. My drill strike broke her jaw and gouged out part of her cheek while the blow itself sent the Splicer backwards onto her right side. As the woman tried to get back onto her feet, I stomped down on the back of her skull with the sole of my weighted right diving boot.

Hearing Jennifer let out a grunt of exertion, I turned to see her climbing up the side of the far wall and then pulling herself over the top of the railing of the second floor. As I watched, she stood and then began to hit the Splicers that had been firing upon us with balls of genetic flame. The armored young woman then charged towards the surviving denizens with her tungsten-tipped needle at the ready.

The high-pitched report of Alpha's modified Prototype Rivet Gun filled the air as he took aim at the Splicers on the third floor. I began to move towards the right flight of stairs but, suddenly, Eleanor screamed, "Daddy!" I turned to my right just in time to see a Brute Splicer in a casual business suit that looked as if it was ready to burst at the seams jump from the third floor down and land before me, shaking the entire lobby in the process. Completely unfazed by the fall and hard landing, the disgusting abomination ran towards me on all fours.

Reacting quickly, I electrocuted the ape-like Splicer with a blast of Electro Bolt and then swung my drill into the man's head. The blow was enough to crack open the front of the genetically twisted man's skull but it failed to faze him. The Splicer growled as if he was an animal as he continued his charge forward once he broke free from the effects of my Electro Bolt Plasmid. Before I could sidestep him, his large frame impacted mine with enough force to nearly knock me over and caused my passenger to cry out in mild exhilaration.

Ignoring the pain from what was likely a crushed rib cage being mended back together by the red liquid in my First Aid Reserve Tank, I ignited the Brute with a blast of Incinerate! before sending another vicious drill swing into the abomination's weakened skull. The raw power behind my strike sent the razor-sharp tip of my weaponized industrial tool deep into the man's head to penetrate the brain cavity. The massive frame of the Splicer convulsed momentarily before the corpse collapsed in a heap on the filthy, damp floor.

The sound of a pair of armored diving boots hitting the tiled floor to my left drew my attention. I found Jennifer standing before me and I also noticed that the lobby had become eerily quiet. The Splicers had retreated into the interior of the hotel. Considering the death traps that they had waiting for us, it would be unwise to proceed until we eliminated a large number of them. We needed to find a way to draw them out. However, Splicers were deranged, not suicidal. What could we use to draw them out of their entrenched positions?

Looking around, I smirked darkly when I saw the corpse of female Splicer that was just on the other side of the pool of sea water. The corpse was glowing slightly and it was fresh as it did not show any signs of decomposition or mummification. Not only would the Splicers come running once Eleanor started gathering but the woman likely had detailed information about the traps inside the hotel thanks to the memories stored inside the ADAM that was still inside her body.

Eleanor, knowing my plan due to the link that we shared, commented, "_Very clever, Father. I just hope that this does not draw out the last hostile Big Sister in the area._"

I replied with my gruff human voice, "_It is a risk that we will have to take, kid._"

Moving towards the corpse, I informed my two heavily armored companions with my Alpha Series voice, "We need to draw out the majority of the remaining Splicers before proceeding into the interior of the hotel."

Subject Alpha began to set up a perimeter with Trap Rivets while Jennifer glanced around as she studied her surroundings. I stopped before the corpse and noticed that, despite the physical distortions caused by the subsequent years of ADAM-abuse, I could make out a telltale scar on the side of her head. The faded, torn green working class attire and the heavily rusted section of pipe that was lying on the ground a few inches away from her outstretched right hand caused the memory of my death to play before my mind's eye. I remembered her. She was the woman that had been present the night of my death all those years ago.

I had struck her in the side of her head and sent her flying off to my right. I was certain that she would not survive having the side of her skull crushed by the side of my drill. However, she had indeed survived the incident only to die within hours of our reunion ten years later. The exact cause of her death was somewhat of a mystery to me. However, judging by the unnaturally flat posture, the pieces of railing around her body, and the opening in the railing up on the third floor, I theorized that she had met her end due to a deadly fall from the third floor. Whether it was a suicide or a homicide would likely only be answered by the memories trapped within the ADAM inside her body.

Seeing that Alpha and Jennifer were ready, I lowered my armored frame down onto my right knee to allow the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister to disembark. Upon standing, I looked down at the precious little girl as she excitedly pointed at the woman's corpse with her blood-covered left index finger and said with her robotic tone in a singsong manner, "Who watches over sleeping angels? I do! I do!" She lowered herself down onto her knees and then thrust the needle of her Gathering Tool into the corpse.

As I had predicted, the dinner bell was just too much for the Splicers to resist. The deafening chorus of broken, crazed voices filled the hotel as they closed in on our position. As I heard the murderous feral humanoids closing in, the molten hot rage of my Protector Instincts stormed into my mind while the area before me became cast in a red glow. The psychopathic monster known as Subject Delta was let out of his cage and I grunted out, "This had better be worth my time, old man."

When the first group of five Thuggish Splicers appeared as they mindlessly rushed down the flight of stairs on either side of the elevator, I heard Sofia's puppet begin to sing her famous song about what it was like to be poor. I mentally sighed as the rats entered the pool of water before me. I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported finger tips of my left hand into the death trap. My tactic succeeded in electrocuting the Splicers, who screamed in agony before collapsing into the fluid. My master began to sing herself in order to drown out the "call to arms" that Gracie was piping through the hotel. It took me a moment to recognize the song, but, once I did, I could not help but smile brightly beneath my copper face.

With a heart-melting tone that was filled with unashamed passion, she began while I could have sworn I heard the sound of an old-school big band playing in the background, "Somewhere…beyond the sea. Somewhere…waitin' for me…"

A group of Leadhead Splicers appeared on the second floor and began to fire upon us with crudely repaired .38 Caliber Revolvers. I roared in fury as the rounds impacted my frame and then used my Telekinesis Plasmid to will the left portion of the Fire Door that had been blocking our advance into the hotel up into the section of the second floor that the Splicers were occupying. The massive piece of metal, easily several tons in weight, smashed through the flimsy railing and then sliced the rats, six in total, in half at the midsection before disappearing from view and slamming into the wall beyond in a cloud of dust and flying concrete.

My master continued, "…my lover stands on golden sands…and watches the ships that go sailin'."

The loud report of Alpha's Prototype Rivet Gun filled the air as four Thuggish Splicers jumped down from the first floor and landed before him. Moments later, Jennifer hissed at a group of Leadhead Splicers that appeared on the third floor before she jumped up to their level and began to attack them. Meanwhile, two Brute Splicers jumped down from the second floor and landed before me.

The passion in Eleanor's voice never wavered as she continued with her slightly altered version of the famous song by Bobby Darin, "Somewhere…beyond the sea…he's there watching for me."

The two brutes charged towards me, but, letting out a guttural roar that shook the hotel to its foundation, I revved up my heavily-modified, industrial-grade drill and then charged towards them. Giving off the deafening sounds of cracking bone and strained metal, we collided and I sent the two swollen men backwards onto the filthy ground. These abominations may have been a challenge for the Tin Men and that fool Johnny Topside, but they were no match for me. As I towered above them, I let out another guttural roar as I smashed the left side of my drill bit and my left fist against my heavily armored chest.

My master continued above the noise of the chaos with her beautiful, hypnotic voice, "If I could fly like birds on high…then straight to his arms I'd go sailin'."

The Brute Splicer on the left recovered and tried to tackle me. However, I maintained my footing as I turned with his momentum. The man lost his grip and flew off my frame and into the pool of water. Again, I utilized the death trap by willing a blast of Electro Bolt into the fluid. The bloated Splicer cried out in agony as steam began to emit from his electrified frame. Moments later, the Brute's cries ceased and the corpse collapsed in a lifeless heap in the pool of sea water.

Eleanor continued, "It's far…beyond the stars…it's near beyond the Moon…"

I turned to face the other Brute Splicer. The man had failed to recover as quickly as the other one had and I moved to stand before him.

"I know…beyond a doubt…my heart will lead me there soon…"

Revving up my drill, I stomped down onto the abomination's large chest with my heavy right diving boot. As the Brute flailed his grotesque, growth-covered arms around in a vain effort to get me off of him, I thrust my whirling drill's bit into his forehead. The sound of a cracking skull filled the air as my frame was covered in the Splicer's ADAM-laden blood and brain matter. Seconds later, I powered down my drill and then ripped it free from the mangled corpse. I then returned to my master's side.

She continued, "We'll meet...beyond the shore. We'll kiss…just as before…"

Hearing a telltale clicking sound, I turned my attention to the second floor. There, I saw a Splicer loading an RPG warhead into a crudely manufactured Grenade Launcher that appeared to be comprised of multiple paint cans and sections of sheet metal. A wooden handle was fashioned into a functional trigger. A curved reservoir made out of a gutted paint can was attached to the right side of the launcher to allow the user to have multiple shots before reloading. Judging by the wear and tear, the launcher was likely a leftover from the Civil War.

The Splicer fired a RPG at me but I revved up my drill.

"…happy we'll be beyond the sea…"

The electromagnetic dynamo modification sent the warhead back to the Splicer. The woman never had a chance to react before the RPG hit home and detonated.

"...and never again will I go sailin'."

Another Splicer jumped down from the first floor and landed just before Alpha. This one was clad in welder's attire complete with a mask and apron. He was wielding what looked like a fire extinguisher that had been converted into a homemade Chemical Thrower. The weapon's trigger was a wrench that opened and closed the pressure valve on the left side. At the muzzle was a small lighter that was projecting a small flame that ignited the contents of the tank. Judging by the weathered appearance of the thrower, it was also a leftover from the Civil War.

The Splicer began to attack my brother with a stream of flame that was likely a homemade mixture that was similar to Napalm. However, Alpha remained calm even as his frame was engulfed by the inferno. Taking aim, he fired a Heavy Rivet into to Splicer's pressurized weapon. The rivet punched through the tank's exterior and, seconds later, the weapon exploded in the Splicer's hands in a cloud of metal shrapnel and fire.

"I know…beyond a doubt…my heart will lead me there soon."

Jennifer jumped down from the third floor and used the body of a female Leadhead Splicer to cushion her landing. Moments later, I felt the entire hotel vibrate and soon heard the enraged call of one of the Tin Men. The hulking frame of a Rosie Mass Production Model appeared as the giant stomped down the right flight of stairs. The green residue of a Hypnotize Big Daddy polyp was still present on the side of the Tin Man's heavily-reinforced helmet as he charged towards us while he fired his powerful Rivet Gun.

Behind the mind-controlled Tin Man, I saw six Thuggish Splicers and five Leadhead Splicers armed with modified Thompson Submachine Guns. As the crowd rushed forward, I heard one of the men yell at the controlled giant, "Alright you tin shit box, grab the little bitch for us." Though the Rosie's movements were jerky and forced as the heavily-spliced man fought against the effects of the mind control plasmid, the manufactured Goliath charged through the Trap Rivets as he zeroed in on my master.

"We'll meet...I know we'll meet...beyond the shore...we'll kiss just as before."

Jennifer and Alpha sidestepped the Tin Man to avoid being trampled beneath his enormous frame but I stood my ground before my bonded partner even as my body was hit repeatedly by the high-powered rivets of the Mass Production Model's weaponized industrial tool. Seconds later, the giant collided against my smaller frame. I let out a roar as it felt like every bone in my body was crushed into powder. However, I ignored the unimaginable agony and my own blood coating the interior surface of my segmented eye as I stood firm mere inches away from the delicate frame of my beloved master. Any other member of the Alpha Series would have been thrown off his feet and trampled by the brute strength that the Tin Man possessed but I was Subject Delta; the Original Big Daddy and the Apex Predator of Rapture.

My master remained unfazed as she continued, "Happy we'll be beyond the sea…and…never again will I go sailin'."

I held the diving suit-clad giant with my left hand firmly clamped onto the metal bars protecting the porthole on the right side of his head and with my drill shoved into the thinner hide of his midsection. As our hellish red eyes were inches away from each other, beneath that cold facade, I could have sworn that I saw what was left of the man that the Mass Production Model had once been.

The man was begging me to not let him harm the little girl behind me. The Alpha Series and the Mass Production Models despised each other with a passion. In every way, we saw each other as an abomination. However, in that brief second, I saw that there was one commonality between us: the Little Sisters and the passion that we had for them. Before then, Johnny Topside and I had believed that the Tin Men did not care about them and simply protected their Little Sisters because of the brainwashing and programming.

I saw it: that flicker of human compassion and love for the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister. The man inside the monster was fighting with all of his broken willpower to keep himself from harming the little girl not because of his programming but because of the natural instinct to protect a young human child. As we were locked in our battle of brute strength, I revved up my drill and began to bore into the giant's midsection.

Using all of his willpower, the Rosie Mass Production Model kept himself from resisting the razor-sharp tip of my drill bit as it ripped and tore its way through his body. He knew that it was the only way that he could prevent himself from harming the Little Sister. Eventually, the Tin Man's porthole stopped emitting its hellish red light and the massive frame became limp. Letting out a loud roar, I threw the carcass off of my frame and into the pool of water. A strange emotion briefly filled my mind as I looked down at the bloodied carcass of the fallen protector through my blood-soaked segmented eye. The only way I could describe it was appreciation for the Mass Production Model's selflessness.

Perhaps, I had misjudged them. Perhaps, they were not the emotionless abominations that I had believed them to be. However, seconds later, I scolded myself for having a moment of weakness. One individual's selfless actions, no matter how noble, could not redeem the entire population. They were emotionless brutes that merely protected the Little Sisters because it was a "chore" and not a privilege. My kind were the only true Big Daddies in Rapture.

Meanwhile, the Splicers had been easily dispatched by my companions. The residents of the hotel had at least provided some challenge for us. However, as expected, it was not enough to be worth my time. Leaving the rest for Johnny Topside, I returned to my cage.

"No more sailin'..."

I let out a low grunt as I felt the maddening rage subside inside my mind and thus allowing my calm thoughts to return. The hellish red light being emitted by my segmented eye returned to its normal golden yellow. As I collected my thoughts, I heard Eleanor finish her song.

"...so long sailin'. Bye bye sailin'. Move out captain." The tiny child stood and then injected the empowering contents of the ADAM-filled reservoir of the Gathering Tool into my left leg. I grunted in mild discomfort as the gene-twisting substance flooded my system, causing my body to heat up astronomically for a brief period of time. At the same time, I saw images before my mind's eye. Ordinarily, only Little Sisters could interpret the memories trapped with a corpse's ADAM, but, thanks to Eleanor and the link we shared, she was able to show me the woman's memories.

I saw her regaining consciousness following my death and then helping Sofia incapacitate Eleanor so they could more easily sneak her out through the crowded party upstairs. I saw Sofia praising her for her contribution to Eleanor's retrieval and then for her involvement in the Civil War. Sofia was smart to keep The Family out of the conflict as much as possible. In fact, according to the woman's memories, The Family rode out the Civil War in the relative safety of the Persephone Penal Facility and the heavily fortified positions in Pauper's Drop, Skid Row, and Fontaine Futuristics.

From what I saw through the woman's eyes, Skid Row was the center of fierce fighting and was in a state of near constant chaos as the rival factions of Ryan, Fontaine, Lamb, and smaller crime bosses fought for control. Even after Ryan and Fontaine were killed, the shattered remnants of their henchmen continued to fight for the prize of possession of Skid Row. After several years, The Family ultimately won control and, now, nearly all the residents were allied to Sofia Lamb.

Following the Civil War, the woman became increasingly unstable as ADAM went from scarce to nearly non-existent when the Little Sisters grew out of the ages of usefulness. However, like the other members of The Family, her mental instability merely made her more susceptible to Sofia Lamb's manipulations. When I had been first sighted within the crumbling ruins of Adonis, Sofia had sent her to Pauper's Drop to be Gracie's bodyguard.

Her death had been the result of a confrontation with Gracie. The woman had insisted that this final stand against me was a fool's errand and that Gracie should evacuate Pauper's Drop via one of The Family's operational bathyspheres. However, Gracie refused and cryptically explained the reason for her obsession and hatred for me. The woman grew impatient with the former singer and grabbed her right arm. The action drew the wrath of the Big Sister that Sofia had sent to protect Gracie when it became clear that I was going to get through the Fire Door.

It had been the Big Sister that had thrown the long-time loyal member of Lamb's Flock through the railing and to her death three stories below. The three story fall would not have been fatal if it had not been for the fact that the woman had been disorientated when she was thrown through the railing. As a result, she had been unable to prevent landing headfirst and thus sealing her fate.

I grimaced at the revelation. Gracie had a Big Sister protecting her and the deranged young adolescent was now waiting for us somewhere in the ruins of the slum-like hotel. The situation was complicated further still when my built-in shortwave radio powered to life seconds after I returned to being in conscious control of my body. The voice of Sinclair filled the air as he alerted me, "Son, it seems that the population of The Drop has decided to pay a visit to Ol' Sinclair. I would hate for our partnership to be cut short on account of the locals' lack of manners."

I did not care much for Sinclair, but I could not allow the Splicers to destroy the defenseless train. Without the train, the only way to get to Fontaine Futuristics was a walk across the sea floor. While I was a Big Daddy, I doubted that I could reach the building in time if I had to travel there on foot. The train had to be protected at all costs. I turned my entire body to look at Jennifer and then grunted, "Get to the train station and defend it until we can get the key from Gracie. Defend that train, kid. Without it, Alpha and I are dead men walking."

Giving as little as a slight nod, Jennifer dissolved into a cloud of blue mist as she teleported to the Atlantic Express Train Station in The Drop.

"I do not believe that Mother intends for the Big Sister to protect Aunt Gracie, Father."

I turned my body back to look down at the blood-covered, yellow-eyed young girl at my feet. As she returned my gaze with an expression of worry, I replied, "What do you mean?"

She explained, "She was willing to murder my father right in front of my eyes in order to separate us, Johnny. What do you think she is willing to do in order to keep you away from me?"

Standing right beside me on my right, Alpha rumbled, "Sofia is going to have her best friend murdered right under The Family's nose. Without Gracie and her genetic key, we cannot proceed…Sofia knows that. She intends to kill both of us at the price of her friend, sir."

I lowered myself down onto my right knee to allow my young companion to climb up onto her throne. Once she had situated herself, she tapped the top of my copper head with her Gathering Tool. Standing, I grunted, "We have to get to Gracie before the Big Sister kills her and takes the key. Come on, we don't have much time."

Leading the way, I proceeded up the left flight of stairs and then entered the first floor of the hotel. Sofia Lamb was going to have her own best, and only true, friend murdered at the hand of one of the Big Sisters just to keep Alpha from reaching Emily and me from reaching Eleanor. I had long since thought of the former psychiatrist as being narrow minded and obsessive but I had never thought of her as a genuine psychopath that could have given The Mad Artist Sander Cohen a run for his money. Granted, I had never had any academic training in the field of psychology, but, given Sofia's talent for deception, manipulation, and being able to live with and even being able to justify murdering the people that trusted her, I would actually label her as a run-of-the-mill sociopath.

Before, I had called her that out of anger and resentment but now that there was indeed a good chance that she had ordered the killing of her long-time friend and loyal ally, I had to face the unnerving prospect that I was actually dealing with a genuine sociopath that was hell-bent on achieving her pipe dream of "paradise" even if it meant killing and torturing everyone around her in order to achieve it.

I had to get to Gracie and stop the Big Sister from killing her and, above all else, retrieve her key. Sofia was going to descend further into madness with every failed attempt to kill me. I had to reach Eleanor and quickly before she resorted to more unpleasant methods of separating my daughter and me. She had already made the decision to kill her friend and I had no desire to see the more desperate attempts that she would go to in order to kill me and turn Eleanor into something completely inhuman.


	20. Chapter 20: Rats on a sinking ship

Ch. 20: Rats on a sinking ship

* * *

A.N.:

Sorry everyone!

This semester has been more demanding than I had anticipated. I apologize for the long time between updates. Rest assured, this story will never die. Not as long as I have something to say about it!

Anyway, like I said, this story is AU and, while it does share similarities to BioShock 2, it is not the same.

Again, I am very sorry about how long it has been since an update.

As always, read and review if you want.

* * *

The dark foreboding path before me was a Protector's worst nightmare. The first floor lobby itself was uninviting with a corpse slouched against the once decorative oval-shaped planter that had long-since lost its ability to host plant life. Strangely, there was a small, unopened present held tightly in the deceased man's hands. After I physically moved my entire frame to the right, since I could not turn my head due to my suit, I saw a Little Sister Vent down the short right path.

Turning back so that I was facing the long, partially collapsed hallway, I growled slightly in irritation. Why did the Splicers always set up shop in the worst possible places? Did they have some weird fetish for living in a structure that was seconds away from collapsing? Steeling myself, I made my way around the concrete planter and then entered the long hallway.

A seemingly endless number of closed or otherwise inaccessible rooms passed me as I made my way down the hallway with my bloodied modified drill at the ready mounted over my right hand and my Incinerate! empowered left gauntlet-encased hand at the ready. The space was so dark that my built-in helmet-mounted waterproof light powered on to illuminate the path before me. Meanwhile, my two auxiliary lights continued to illuminate the area around my feet.

I heard my small companion let out a small whimper of fright. The soft sound had no sooner escaped her tiny frame before I felt a sharp shooting sense of shame fill her mind. I let out a reassuring grunt before I said through our bond, '_Don't be ashamed, Eleanor. I would be more concerned if you were not a little frightened of this place._'

My bonded partner replied, '_You aren't afraid._'

I mentally sighed before I informed her, '_Trust me, that is not a good thing._'

I heard the sound of a woman's manic laughter coming from a room that was missing its door and had a faint trace of light coming from its interior. Cautiously, I approached it with my weapon at the ready. Moments later, I turned and stood in the doorway. With my headlamp illuminating the small room that was the size of the interior of an airlock, I was able to spot a female Splicer that had her back to me as she clawed at the heavily reinforced door of a locked safe in the far right corner. At the same time, there was another female Splicer leaning against the partially visible left wall that was nearly obscured by a pile of wood planks that I could only assume was a shelf and several pieces of furniture at one point.

Upon realizing that I was standing there, the Splicers cried out and began to rush towards me with their crude melee weapons raised above their heads. I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from my ported finger tips into the closest one, a middle aged woman with horribly ravaged facial features and ratty clothing, and then bashed the side of her skull with my drill. Meanwhile, the remaining Splicer was able to hit me with her rusted metal pipe.

The inside of my diving helmet echoed painfully as the rusted section of pipe struck the right side of my armored head. Growling loudly, I cocked my right arm to the left and then swung it all the way back to strike the woman in the side of her neck with the razor sharp grooves of my industrial tool. The sick cracking sound of snapping vertebrae filled the air as my blow broke the Splicer's neck. The Splicer collapsed onto the dirty splinter-covered floor but, due to the ADAM in her body, she was still alive. I made my way over to her twitching body and then stomped down on top of her head with the heavy sole of my right diving boot.

Seeing that the safe appeared to have been spared by the years of neglect and scavenging, I left the bloody remains of the woman and walked over to the locked container in the corner. It was another tumble-dial combination safe with reinforced metal skin. I was intrigued to see that it appeared to have been secured to the floor beneath it or was simply far too heavy for the Splicers to move as I noticed that there was a layer of dust around the lower edges of the object.

With the contents inside presumably still untouched since they were sealed inside, I bent down onto my right knee and then gripped the door's handle. Giving it a firm pull, I ripped the door off of its hinges and then tossed it aside. Upon rummaging through the contents inside the safe, I found two hundred dollars and a small rusting yellow fuel container. Mentally shrugging due to the latter, I placed the money in the hollow compartment along my diving belt and then dumped the fuel into my drill's reservoir.

After tossing the small metal container aside, I exited the room and re-entered the hallway. I proceeded with caution towards a path of light at the far end of the maddeningly repetitive succession of locked doors and ruin. The eerie silence was amplified by the echoing effect of my armored head but I maintained my nerve despite the psychological assault. As I neared yet another seemingly locked door on my left, I abruptly stopped.

At the base of the door, I saw that the faint layer of dust had been disturbed in a fan-like pattern. Now that I was looking for anything that was even remotely suspicious, I noticed that the floor board in the middle of the hallway was slightly higher than the boards around it. I smirked beneath my copper and glass façade and then quizzed Eleanor through our link, '_Pop quiz, kid. What does a fan-shaped disturbance in the dust in front of a closed door and an anomalous floor board in the middle of the hallway mean?_

The feeling of bliss filled my body when she answered, '_Give me a hard one Father. It is a trap._'

I asked, '_Yes, but what kind of trap?_'

She asked in response, _'How can you tell?_'

I gave her a hint, '_The fan-shaped pattern is the clue. It is not from the door. What would make that shape of disturbance?_'

My daughter thought for a moment before she answered, '_Flamethrower…_'

Subject Alpha moved to stand beside me and then tossed a section of wooden planking onto the pressure switch on the floor. The second that the wooden plank triggered the sensitive mechanism, the door lowered down into the floor beneath its frame. The nozzle of a large, homemade flamethrower that was attached to the building's natural gas pipeline, came into view just beyond the door frame.

A huge jet of flame emerged out of the end of the nozzle. As it continued to emit its lethal payload, I commended my beautiful bonded partner, '_Well done, kid.'_ Taking aim, Alpha destroyed the trap with a few well-placed shots using his heavily modified Prototype Rivet Gun. The flames sputtered briefly until the device finally failed to operate completely seconds later. With the trap neutralized, I cautiously continued down the hallway.

At the far end of the hallway, I entered what appeared to be the kitchen that the floor shared. The powerful beams of my helmet's main and auxiliary lights pierced the pitch darkness to illuminate the mold covered food that was visible in the open refrigeration unit. A oriental-style folding wall was just beyond the kitchen area though the purpose for its existence escaped me. Moving around it, I found that the path continued on to the right. As I moved carefully, I heard would could have possibly been footsteps though the creaking of the building's ravaged supporting skeleton could have also been the culprit.

As I moved down the new path, the Sinclair Deluxe's loudspeaker system activated and, moments later, Gracie addressed the remaining residents of the dilapidated structure, "The monster is headed up into the hotel Family! He wants me so that he can get to Eleanor! Tin Daddy fells no hurt! Tin Daddy fells no pain! But WE are The Family and WE can teach him how!"

I was struck by how unassuming she was even as Lamb's assassin drew near. She was so committed to The Family, Sofia, and Eleanor and yet her closest friend was the person who had ordered her execution. Even more alarming was the level of control that Sofia had over the Big Sisters. Jennifer had indicated that most of them wanted to escape and also did not want to harm either Subject Alpha or me. Perhaps, the more psychologically disturbed young women were beyond willful control of their actions and were more or less puppets controlled by Sofia.

By then, I had entered an abandoned bedroom suite. Next to the bed and lying against the wall with a bloodied sawed off double barrel shotgun against its chest with the barrels inside the mangled mouth, was the corpse of what had once been a man. The unwise would assume that the man had taken his own life. However, it was very rare for the firearm used to be in such a perfect position. The gun would discharge and the resulting motion of the body caused the weapon to end up nearby the corpse. He was just another murdered individual in a city that had once promised so much to its inhabitants.

Moving through the rooms beyond, I heard the sound of footsteps once again. As I entered another kitchen, suddenly, I was assaulted by the sound of several Splicers screeching as if they were animals as they emerged from their hiding places in the room. There were five Splicers, four men and one woman. They were all armed with crude melee weapons, which they wielded with the Thuggish Splicer's characteristic suicidal aggression as they rushed towards me.

I let out a thunderous guttural roar that shook the entire building to its foundation as the sections of pipe smashed into my left arm, chest, and the center of my segmented glass eye. As the closest man, a rather young individual that could not have been a day over twenty, charged forward once again, I swung my left fist into the side of his skull. The blow sent the Splicer down onto the dirty floor in a heap where he was finished off by my nearby brother.

Unfazed by his demise, two of the men rushed forward to strike me with their weapons. Without missing a beat, Alpha dropped one of them with a well-placed head shot. Nearly simultaneously, I revved up my drill and then thrust it into the second Splicer's chest. ADAM-corrupted blood rained down onto my large armored frame as my drill made short work of the denizen. Meanwhile, I willed a blast of genetic flame from my gloved left hand into the woman as she attempted to flank me.

The sound of burning flesh filled the air as well as the horrid screams of agony as the female Splicer's body was consumed by flame. However, due to the ADAM in her system and her obsessive hunger for the young girl in my care, she threw her burning body at me in one final desperate effort. With the man still being eviscerated on my drill bit, I swung my drill and struck the madwoman across her face, sending both her and the bloodied corpse flying back through the air.

The remaining Splicer attempted to strike Alpha with his section of pipe. However, my brother swiftly reached out with his left hand and swiped the Splicer's right arm to the side. Then, with an equally swift motion, he twisted the limb at an unnatural and painful angle before bringing the Splicer down to take the brutal blow of his raised right knee into his lower abdomen. The sound of a forced exhale filled the air as the strength behind the blow stunned the man.

Without missing a beat, Alpha then grabbed the Splicer by his throat and slammed him onto the ground. My brother stood over the denizen for a moment before killing him with a single rivet into the center mass of his forehead. I silently admired my brother's handiwork. While I relied upon raw power to fight my enemies, Alpha relied upon the strategic placement of swift and brutal strikes to fight his enemies.

Meanwhile, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister chirped happily, "Nobody hurts my Daddy!"

As we continued through the maze of the crumbling first floor, I idly wondered if we could get to Gracie in time to prevent the Big Sister from assassinating her. Even if we did, what then? Even if she accepted the truth of Sofia Lamb's madness, would she still be willing to defy her? Knowing Lamb the way I did, I seriously doubted that Gracie would be willing to part with Sofia even if the crazed woman had ordered her execution.

I came to a side room and noticed a Power to the People Machine through a hole in the back wall as well as a sentry turret. My brother fired a hack rivet into the modified Browning Machine Gun before it could sense our presence. I turned and then moved back into the main corridor to find a way to the Power to the People Machine.

I soon found myself in another trashed living space. There was an opening in the right wall that allowed access to a hallway on the other side. As I scanned the room, my headlamp's beam illuminated the body of a man that had seemingly hanged himself from the exposed overhead gas line. This time, however, it had indeed been a suicide. Unfortunately, judging by the discoloration in the corpse's cloudy eyes, the end had not been caused by the neck being snapped. The rope had been the wrong length and, thus, the fall had failed to snap his neck. Instead, he had slowly suffocated to death.

I paused as I took in the sight of the hanging body. In my mind's eye, I saw the first woman that I had ever loved cold and lifeless and as she swayed ever so slightly where she was hanging from the old tree's thickest branch. I felt so cold and alone as I silently fell to my knees before her nude, beaten body. It was the first time that I truly understood the dangers of ideas. It was also the first time that I had truly wanted to kill another human being.

I was torn from my memories when I saw the male Thuggish Splicer running out of sight into the corner of the room that was on the other side of the wall that was to my left. I cautiously gave chance only to turn the corner to see a vacant kitchen area. Puzzled, I returned to the main part of the room. There, I found four additional bodies underneath the hanging corpse.

Slightly impressed that they had managed to pull off such a stunt in full view of Alpha, I willed a blast of Incinerate! from my gloved left hand into the small group of Splicers. As their bodies were consumed by the genetic flames, they scrambled to their feet with their crude bludgeoning weapons at the ready.

Two of them had hardly even had time to stand before my brother had eliminated them with headshots. The remaining two horridly twisted individuals attempted to charge towards me but one of them only to take three steps before succumbing to the blaze that was eating her body. The last Splicer tried to swing his pipe wrench towards me but I sent the razor-sharp tip of my drill into the center of his skull. Finally succumbing, the man collapsed into a burning heap on the floor.

Alpha grunted with his surgically modified voice, "So, we are fighting ghosts now?"

I laughed before I replied, "So it would seem."

Exiting the room through the hole in the wall, I entered the hallway beyond. To my left, I saw another shrine in front of a Little Sister Vent. The telltale red light indicated an active Security Camera somewhere behind the shrine. Along the wall in front of me, I saw several portholes that allowed a slime-obscured view of the ocean beyond. To my right, I saw that the hallway continued to a right turn that undoubtedly went to the Power to the People Machine.

The old white tiles of the floor crackled beneath my feet as I made my way to the right to access the machine. As I neared the hacked turret, Gracie addressed me through the building's intercom system, "Watching you hurt shouldn't give me such a lift monster, but I am not as clean on the inside as the doctor. I'll take my joy where I can." I cringed slightly as the irony of the statement was lost on the former singer. Deciding against wasting time with the Power to the People Machine, I turned and made my way back towards the Little Sister Vent.

Upon reaching the disgusting abomination of a shrine, I paused to locate the security camera. After waiting for its sweep to cycle, I left the safety of the wall and located the device. It was mounted to the wall above the ornate glass wall that allowed a breathtaking view of the Atlantic Ocean beyond the hotel's exterior. Just before the device could sweep back and spot me, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt into its teardrop-shaped frame. My brother fired a hack rivet into the disabled camera and, when it powered back to life seconds later, it emitted a green light from its "eye". Meanwhile, I let out a grunt of discomfort as fresh EVE was pumped into my body from my EVE Reserve Tank through the intravenous line in my left arm.

I heard the scampering of tiny feet and hands inside the vent and noticed the glowing blue vial of a Gene Tonic on top of the shrine. Eleanor chirped, "Look Father. The word is spreading among the Little Sisters and the Big Sisters. The rebellion against mother is growing with each act of kindness that you show towards them."

Reaching down with my left hand, I retrieved the Gene Tonic. Upon inspecting the worn label, I found that it was a vial of Armored Shell. With the compounding effect of Gene Tonics, it would certainly be of use to me. Now, I just needed a way to inject it into my IV Line. "Here you go, Father." Sensing my thoughts, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister leaned over my right shoulder and then injected the tip of her Gathering Tool into the top of the vial. After withdrawing a sample of the Tonic, she climbed around to lean over my left shoulder whereupon she injected the tip of her needle into the port on my massive left arm.

I grunted in discomfort as the unnatural sensation of molten hot liquid filled my bloodstream for a moment before it was replaced by the painful sensation of the thin protective layer just beneath my skin increased in its thickness. After a few brief agonizing moments, the sensation passed. My body was slowly adjusting to the constant new genetic modifications but it would still take some time for it to be able to weather them without hindrance.

I grunted appreciatively, "Thanks, kid."

Eleanor chirped happily, "You're welcome!"

Turning to my left, I saw that part of the upper floor had collapsed and the fallen debris had formed a ramp up to the second floor. The stability of the large pile was questionable but, given the limited amount of time that we had to work with, I decided to risk it. The loose boards shifted and gave off cracking sounds as I slowly ascended up to the second floor. With each step, I felt my stomach turn as I expected for the impromptu path to collapse. However, my luck held out and I managed to reach firmer ground on the second floor.

At the far end of the fifty yard long hallway before me, I saw four Leadhead Splicers armed with crudely repaired Thompson Submachine Guns. They were standing in a pool of water that appeared to be caused by a ruptured water line since I could not see any visible damage that would be allowing sea water to enter the building. Spotting me, the Splicers cried out in fury as they opened fired with their modified weapons.

I growled as the .50 caliber rounds punched through my insufficient armor though I noted that the rounds did not rip into my underlying flesh and bone with near as much ferocity due to the enhanced Armored Shell spliced into my body. The deafening roar of my drill filled the air as I powered it to life and began to deflect the rounds back at the Splicers. Using the Electromagnetic Dynamo, I was able to quickly advance towards the bewildered denizens. When I was within range, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my gauntlet-encased left hand.

The Splicers wailed in agony as a fantastically macabre light show lit up the hallway. I powered down my drill as I idly watched the Splicers succumb to the electrical assault on their bodies. However, I had let my guard down and I let out a furious roar as I was pelted by the buckshot of a female Splicer's pump action shotgun from where she had been in one of the gutted rooms to my right.

I turned to my right as I revved up my drill once again before charging forward and slamming into the frail female Splicer's frame. The force of the impact sent the woman flying back through the air before she smashed into a refrigeration unit. Though her body was broken, the middle aged woman in torn aristocratic attire attempted to raise her shotgun back up towards me with her compound fractured right arm. Before she could, I finished her off with a powerful drill swing into her skull.

Quickly scanning the room, I noted the strange Bouncer Mass Production Model plush doll on the counter in the kitchen area. Though slightly disgusted by the fact that the Tin Men had been turned into children's toys as if they were noble and worthy of being adored by the youth of Rapture, I was disturbed by the screwdriver that had been driven into one of the doll's portholes. Remembering the Rosie Model around the Fishbowl Diner, I realized that Gracie's unhealthy obsession with her hatred for anything that even remotely resembled me was far deeper than I had originally thought.

Moving forward through the rooms, I noted a storage area for what looked like crates of items for the gift shop in Ryan Amusements. The outright exploitation by Sinclair disgusted me greatly as I pieced together yet another cost cutting scheme of his. He had not only charged rent but he exploited the residents as a source of cheap labor. They manufactured the tourist trinkets for next to nothing in return while Sinclair charged the gift store owner for the finished product at what, to the owner, seemed to be a lower cost. Sinclair made a profit either way and only pocketed the money while everyone else did all the work.

In another area, I saw an old camera on a tall tripod. On the floor around the camera and on the wall just to the left of it were captivating photographs that had been painstakingly developed for the proper effect that was unique for each image. Most of the images were of the surrounding ocean floor and locations in the city before the Civil War. The city scenes looked so innocent and beautiful that one might have been tempted to think that it was a city that was incapable of the twisted things that it had done. Just like everything else in life, photographs were indeed worth a thousand words: one lie and nine hundred and ninety nine hidden truths.

When I reached the other side of the pool of water that had become a deathtrap for the four Splicers, I saw an enormous hole in the wall on the other side. How the surrounding structure was still standing escaped my understanding as two Bouncer Models could have easily passed through the opening had it not been for the stack of crates and fuel barrels. With the remainder of the hallway inaccessible, I began to move towards the partially blocked path in front of me.

However, as I moved closer, suddenly, the crates shattered and the barrels exploded as a Brute Splicer powered through them from the room on the other side. As the ape-like individual rushed towards me, he taunted, "She's gonna watch me do ya' son!" Reacting quickly, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from my left hand as the Brute entered the ankle deep pool of water. The enormous man in suspenders shock violently as his body was surrounded by blue electrical arcs. My elemental attack was hardly more than a temporary inconvenience to the human tank and, as his body was still being electrocuted, he yelled in fury, "Fight fair ya' Molly!"

Ignoring the Brute's request, Alpha began to fire upon the man with his heavily modified Prototype Rivet Gun. The industrial-grade projectiles all hit home in the ape-like Splicer's growth-covered head as my brother's experienced and talented marksmanship was once again displayed. As the Brute turned to face the Alpha Series Big Daddy, the tactically gifted Protector placed two rivets into the Splicer's eyes. Rendered blind, the abomination began to flail about, his massive arms and badly scarred hands tearing apart everything that was in reach.

The Brute was still standing in the pool of water and I willed another blast of Electro Bolt from my gloved left hand. I waited for a moment to prevent electrocuting myself with my own genetic electricity and then charged forward. Before the Splicer could react, I sent the razor-sharp tip of my drill into his kneecaps. The ape-like abomination collapsed onto his hands and knees as my inhumanly strong strikes effectively severed the man's upper and lower legs. Without missing a beat, I jumped onto the Splicer's back with my left foot landing on his left shoulder. Even the staggering muscular strength of the Brute was no match for my immense weight and he collapsed completely onto the ground. With my frame pinning him down, I revved up my drill and then thrust its spinning bit into the back of the Splicer's head. Ignoring the blood, gelatinous brain matter, and skull fragments ejecting from the bore site, I finished off the abomination. Seconds later, it was all over.

Powering down my drill, I ripped it free from the bloody mass that had been the Brute Splicer's skull moments prior. I retracted from the corpse and then commended my brother, who was reloading his favored Protector Tool, "Outstanding aim, my brother."

He replied humbly, "Second shot was off-center."

I laughed with my repeated grunts and then turned to face the opening in the wall. Upon entering the room on the other side, I found the strange sight of numerous blue butterflies in the far left corner. Their carcasses were organized by size, color, and condition along a table that had small cages around it. Suddenly, the bug lights that I had seen near the ceiling in the main courtyard made more sense. The insects must have been raised and then killed by The Family to be used to make the butterfly pins that they all wore. The cruel, twisted production-line like processing of the defenseless butterflies was as pointless as it was bizarre.

The ceiling had collapsed on the right side of the room and, yet again, the debris formed a ramp to the next floor. Proceeding with caution, I began to ascend up to the third floor. As I did, my built-in radio powered to life and, seconds later, Sofia addressed me with a strange tone that sounded as if she was detached from herself and the world, "Do you think of me as a monster, Delta? A twisted madwoman with a warped perception of the world? Do you really think that I can so easily live with the things that I have done in order to save the world? The things that I have done haunt me like a cancer that is eating me from the inside out. I had no choice…if you had the chance to bring about the salvation of all mankind, would you not do what I have done? What is your life…or Gracie's life compared to paradise for the majority? I understand your desire to reach Eleanor, Delta. However, please, for her sake...for mankind's sake…stop your struggling; accept the fact that the need for someone like you is long gone. The world will remember your kind's sacrifices and how you carried the weight of the masses on your shoulders…but…now, your job is finished. Rest now…you have earned it."

By then, I had reached the third floor. Turning, I looked down a short hallway to see that the walkway around the courtyard was just beyond an open doorway. A security camera was all that stood between me and Gracie. Willing a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my left hand, I disabled the device. Seconds later, Alpha fired a Hack Rivet into the metal hide of the machine. With time running short, I moved as fast as my heavily armored frame could allow me towards the walkway.

Upon exiting the hallway, I moved over to the railing and then looked around at the rooms. The metal skeleton of the elevator shaft loomed before me as I examined the square-shaped path around the courtyard. I absentmindedly noted the resulting carnage of the fierce battle that had occurred in the courtyard only minutes earlier and the strange sight of the wheelchair on the far right side of the walkway that had a shotgun resting on its crumbling armrests and numerous used EVE HYPO needles around it. Finally, I spotted the inscription of "G. Holloway" on the name plate of the door in the far left corner.

Rushing towards it, I was relieved that there did not appear to be any indications that the Big Sister had arrived before us. I also did not hear anything out of the ordinary. Had we really reached the elderly former singer in time? I felt a small ray of hope that we had been able to save Gracie from both her own misunderstandings and Sofia Lamb's madness.

However, with less than ten yards left before I would reach the door to Gracie's suite, I heard a blood-curdling scream from inside the apartment. My body suddenly felt ice cold as I revved up my drill and then bulldozed through the door before it could slide open. The scene that greeted me confirmed my worst fear. Before me, standing in the middle of the small living room that had a piano and record player machine along the right wall and a small area that was clearly Eleanor's bedroom when she had been staying with her "aunt" in the far left corner, was the heavily armored yet lithe frame of the Big Sister.

Her sword-like needle was covered in fresh blood as she stood over the face down body of Grace Holloway. A large patch of blood was visible in the middle of the elderly woman's back and a pool of bright red lifeblood was beginning to pool around her body. I hardly had any time to take it all in before I slammed into the young woman. The force of the impact was enough to send her staggering back a few steps but I had lost too much momentum getting through the door to inflict any substantial physical damage to the assassin.

Recovering, the Big Sister back flipped off the wall and over my head. Turning, I saw the lithe armored individual rushing towards the open doorway. Alpha attempted to stop her but she ducked below his reach and then spun around him to the left. She was able to reach the walkway and started to jump from the railing. However, the Big Sister was not able to jump before Alpha had retrieved a flare gun that I not noticed along his diving belt with his gauntlet-encased left hand and fired a cylinder from it. The projectile hit home but it did not appear to do anything other than coat her oxygen tank with a strange gel-like substance.

With the assassin gone, I turned my attention back to Gracie. Her body was motionless and the amount of blood that she had lost was all but a confirmation that she had met her end. Guilt flooded my mind as I heard the Little Sister stamper, "Aunt Gr-Gracie?"

I grunted with an apologetic tone as I bent down to inspect the body for the Genetic Key, "I'm so sorry Eleanor...I…"

I was startled when the old woman reached out and grabbed ahold of my outstretched left hand with her much smaller yet calloused right hand. With a shaking frame, the Great Depression survivor raised her head up to look at me with her hardened yet warm brown eyes. It was clear that she was beyond mortal aid and, gently, I closed my massive left hand around her hand. The resolve in her voice was unbroken despite her rapidly deteriorating physical state as she addressed me, "For so long, I have hated you monst...Delta. Yet, on my death bed, you are the one by my side holding my hand. Dr. Lamb was wrong about you…I was wrong about you. I blinded myself from the truth but now I see. Sofia entrusted her child to me…now…I am entrusting her to you. My Genetic Key is in the safe room behind my bedroom. The switch is behind the poster of the doctor. Save Eleanor, Delta. Please, save her from what her mother has become."

The light in her eyes brightened suddenly as she said with a distant tone, "I'm coming James…I just had to tuck the children in. I'm coming to join you now."

Her voice wavered on her last word but she managed to speak it just before her eyes closed and her body relaxed in an unnatural manner. I lowered her hand back down to the ground and then released my grip. I heard my brother move past me and into the bedroom to retrieve the key. Meanwhile, I rolled the woman's body over and then crossed her arms over her chest. Gracie had survived the worst that The Great Depression and Rapture had to offer only to be stabbed in the back by her closest friend.

As I stood back upright, I heard Eleanor say in a calm tone, "_Requiescat in pace_, Aunt Gracie."

I grunted, "I'm sorry, Eleanor."

She assured me, "Don't be, it wasn't your fault."

Before I could reply, Subject Alpha returned and held up the yellow Genetic Key with his left hand. Leaving the body of the former singer behind, we left the apartment and then began to make our way out of the hotel. As we did, Sinclair remarked through my built-in radio with his Southern-accented voice, "Poor Ol' Gracie. I've cut partnerships short in the past but I've always looked them in the eyes when I do. You've got the key now, though. Hurry on back to the station!"

At that moment, the power in the hotel went offline completely and we were plunged into darkness. Using my headlamp and auxiliary lights, I navigated the black abyss that had overtaken the building. I was able to locate an alternative route back down to the first floor and entered the courtyard. The panicked screams of Splicers filled the air and it became apparent that the entire Drop had lost power. Without power, the failsafe systems, namely the watertight bulkheads, would seal in less than ten minutes.

Upon reaching the Little Sister Vent in the First Floor Lobby, I stood before it and retrieved the small child from where she was on her throne. I smiled gently beneath my copper face as she beamed back up at me while I held her before me. With the veins of my left hand glowing white, I placed my palm onto her forehead.

My vision was overwhelmed by white light while my body felt as if it was on fire. The intense heat resonated in every nerve ending as the onrush of fresh ADAM was eagerly absorbed by my heavily spliced form. The corruption-filled feeling of power was stronger this time but, with so many people counting on me, I was easily able to resist the hunger that the green slime-like substance created within its hosts.

When my vision returned, I found the normal little girl smiling up at me. She placed both of her hands together as she said with a grateful tone, "Thank you, mister." I let out a soft grunt in response and then assisted the small, fragile child as she climbed up the ornate bronze surface of the vent and into the hole at the top. That was three Little Sisters freed from Sofia Lamb's twisted dream. I did not know how many children she had kidnapped from the surface, but I would be damned before I left one of them behind.

After making sure that she did, in fact, find her way into the ventilation system, I turned away from the Little Sister Vent. With time rapidly running out for The Drop, Subject Alpha and I began to rush back to the train station. Scenes of chaos and desperation were illuminated by our built-in headlamps and auxiliary lights as we exited the hotel and returned to the area around the Fishbowl Diner. The extent of the flooding was revealed as the staircase down to the downtown area was completely underwater and the water around the diner was waist deep.

Splicers were attempting to climb up the slick concrete walls with their fingernails and were climbing over each other to try to get to a ledge or some other spot that was higher up. They completely ignored us as they fought and killed each other for access to higher ground. In many ways, they all reminded me of rats trapped on a sinking ship. Of course, rats tended to actually work together to survive not kill each other to survive.

As we made our way to the path that allowed access to the station, I asked my brother, "What did you hit the Big Sister with?"

He explained, "Radioactive isotope. Low enough of a dose to not be dangerous but strong enough to be detectable by a Geiger Counter. I have a homemade version hardwired into my diving helmet. If she tries to sneak up on us, she is going to be in for quite a shock."

Stunned, I asked, "It is not that I am not impressed but why did you hard-wire a Geiger Counter into your helmet? For that matter, where did you even get radioactive isotopes?"

He explained, "There are pockets of radiation all throughout Rapture due to lack of maintenance. Absorb enough of the stuff, and even a Big Daddy is a dead man. As for the isotopes, there are still plenty of samples in the old chemical lab up in Point Prometheus. They used them to find leaks in the pipes…remember?"

Remembering the maintenance crews crawling along with a Geiger Counter to try to detect a leaking pipe, I replied, "Oh, right…" Then, I commented, "You really are a mad scientist…you know that right?"

He replied in his humble manner, "Whatever it takes to survive, sir."

By the time we reached the train station, the water in the tunnel was nearly up to our chests. Bodies were floating everywhere as the intensity of the fierce battle between the residents of The Drop and Jennifer became all too clear. Jennifer herself was calmly sitting on top of the traincar and kicking her feet in the water to amuse herself as if she was a child even though she was covered in blood. When we entered the station, she commented absentmindedly, "Oh, good…Papa Delta and Alpha…you aren't dead."

Sinclair addressed me, "Hop on, kid…and start the train. Don't make me pull the whistle now."

I entered the booth and then inserted Gracie's Genetic Key into the override slot. The Atlantic Express was built to last. Mill had made it a point that, if need be, his railroad system would outlast the city around it. The Drop was without power but the train station still had back-up power. As such, when I inserted the key into the slot, the override system activated, indicated by the audible unlocking of the traincar's brakes. With the water now up to the roof of the traincar, we entered the submerged vehicle. I pulled the lever down and we left the flooded remains of Pauper's Drop behind as we were finally able to continue towards Fontaine Futuristics.


	21. Chapter 21: Unscheduled stop

Ch. 21: Unscheduled stop

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

I'm very sorry about the wait. I've been absolutely buried with work this semester but I've finally caught a break so let the writing resume xD

Seriously though, I am sorry.

Also, I think I made the beginning of this chapter too fluffy and weird. You have been forewarned xD

Anyway,

I appreciate all the new favs and follows that this story has received. It means a lot.

I hope the wait was worth it! :)

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving!

* * *

The rhythmic thumping of the car's runners along the uneven, time-ravaged track of the Atlantic Express echoed distantly in my mind as the train car moved towards the next station. If I was recalling correctly, it would be Lamb's private residence, named Dionysus Park to insult Andrew Ryan. From beneath my imposing frost-covered frame I idly waited as the dark foreboding landscape of the seafloor surrounding the decaying city passed by the partially flooded car.

As it did, I took measure of our current predicament. The events of Pauper's Drop had cost us valuable time that could not be replaced. However, Dionysus Park had been flooded due to an unfortunate accident prior to my death ten years ago and, thus, we would be able to pass through the station without any problems from Splicers or Sofia. Once we left the madwoman's former residence, it would only be a short trip before we arrived at our destination, Fontaine Futuristiscs.

The building itself had been badly damaged when Ryan's men had stormed into it and seized it. Worse still, as Alpha had mentioned, several of our brothers were still alive and their minds were not their own. A broken Alpha Series Big Daddy is fiercely territorial as if it was the apex predator defending its hunting grounds from any challengers. They were quarantined in Persephone before the war but there were likely several patrolling the ruins of the nearby buildings that made up Fontaine's former headquarters. In addition, Sofia would likely have the quarantined Big Daddies released to buy her more time.

The secret entrance to Persephone was accessible via the control room in the "true" facility behind the main building. We would need a genetic key in order to be able to use the switch on the control panel. However, as indicated by Sofia's revival of the Little Sister Program and the new Mass Production Model that I had encountered, the building had likely been re-inhabited in order for Lamb and The Family to be able to make use of its old Big Daddy and Little Sister conversion laboratories. That meant that there was a new warden of the building. All we needed to do was hunt the individual down and retrieve his or her key.

My thoughts turned to Eleanor. Knowing that I was drawing near, Sofia would be accelerating her cruel experiments on my beloved daughter. Lamb was playing with the proverbial fire. Ordinary human beings could not handle massive influxes of ADAM in a short period of time. Their genetic code would literally be ripped apart and the end result was either something inhuman or it simply was fatal for in the individual. However, Eleanor was a former Little Sister.

Her beautiful body was not only immune to the genetic damage that ADAM caused, which Sofia knew, but it also had long since developed a symbiotic relationship with the substance. While the symbiotic relationship was the cause of the immunity, it was also the cause for another property of Eleanor's body. An ordinary human being's body was enhanced by ADAM at a geometric rate. However, Eleanor's body was enhancing at an exponential rate.

Eleanor had a genius-level, if not higher, intellect and was the most stubborn creature that I had ever encountered. Sofia clearly thought that she had a method by which she could control my daughter. Otherwise, she would have never dared to begin pumping ADAM into Eleanor. The idea that there was a method to control the dark-haired young woman was comical. Being turned into a Little Sister and then physiologically bonded to me had failed to break her and I had nearly freed her from the mental conditioning by the time I had been murdered. If Suchong's Little Sister Conditioning had failed to break Eleanor when she was merely a child, then not even something like the experimental WYK Conditioning that had been tested on an unfortunate infant could break Eleanor now that she was a former Little Sister and a young woman.

The familiar feeling of bliss filled my body as the sight of my daughter appeared in my mind's eye. Her flawless, frost white skin and gentle neutral expression gave her the physical appearance of an angel but her disturbingly sharp deep blue eyes gave her the air of a deity. Visually, her frame was thin but that was merely a façade. When she moved forward and then wrapped her arms around my upper torso, I could feel the powerful, ADAM-infused muscular strength that her innocent façade disguised so effectively.

Eleanor pouted as she looked up at me before she asked with a sad tone, '_Do you really think that I am that macho, Father?_'

Holding her with my left hand near the small of her back and with my right hand gently cupping her smooth left cheek, I assured her, '_No. Of course not, Eleanor. I've always thought that you are a very beautiful man._'

She narrowed her eyes for a moment and then replied with a flat tone, '_You're teasing me…_'

I smiled slightly and then said with my gruff voice, '_Yes._'

Eleanor smiled brightly and then kissed me with her intoxicating soft and full lips before I could react. Her spicy taste overwhelmed every conscious part of my being as if it was hijacking my soul. Part of me wanted to be ashamed of my reaction to the embrace of a woman who was both young enough to be my real daughter and I had known when she was a child.

However, before I knew Eleanor, I had never known the true feeling of peace. I felt happy and calm around her but cold and withdrawn when we were apart. It had taken the absence of the inquisitive young British girl to reveal that I had been miserable for my entire life. Then, it had taken being twisted into the monster Subject Delta to reveal how far I was willing to go to protect her.

It was possible that I was merely misinterpreting a pseudo-parental attachment to Eleanor. However, as far as I knew, such bonds were enforced by hard-wired instinct and biological chemicals. Parental bonds, like the Big Daddy/Little Sister bonds, were incredibly strong and also fairly consistent even over a long period of time, in most cases for a lifetime. My attachment to Eleanor had grown from casual friendship to dangerously strong during our time together.

My attachment to her had started before I was her bonded protector so I was doubtful that my feelings were artificial. My attachment to her had notably grown and changed in nature over time rather than staying fairly consistent. In addition, while it was who she was as an individual that captivated me the most, even when she was a child, I had been strangely aware that she was aesthetically pleasing to look at.

Considering all of the evidence, while it was always possible that I was so broken that I fabricated my feelings for her due to a subconscious desire to believe that I was still a human being, I could only conclude that what I felt was real. While the circumstances by which she had entered my life were unorthodox, that did not change how I felt. Perhaps it had been true for a long time but her age had blinded me to my own feelings. However, now I could not deny it even to myself. I truly loved Eleanor Lamb.

When she finally withdrew from me, she said with a grateful tone, '_Thank you._'

Confused, I asked, '_For what?_'

The blossoming goddess explained, '_For treating me like an adult…not a child._'

I smiled slightly for a moment and then said, '_I've been thinking…before I was uncertain about what I was feeling but…considering everything the only conclusion that I can reach is that either I'm crazy or I truly love you. I love you and not the idea of you or because I want to make you happy._'

The pale young woman looked at me with a blank expression for a few agonizing seconds before, finally, she pressed her entire body against mine and buried her head into my chest just below my collarbone. I became alarmed when I felt her almost painfully hot frame begin to shake slightly. Wrapping my arms around her, I held her against me as gently as I could. However, my concern was revealed to be unwarranted when I felt a wet sensation on my chest and heard her whisper, '_Thank you, Johnny. I love you too._'

* * *

My reprieve with Eleanor was rudely interrupted by the harsh feedback of my helmet's built-in shortwave radio as it powered to life. I found that we were mere moments from entering the flooded station of Dionysus Park. As the train car neared the slot that allowed it access into the station, the voice of a man older than fifty years of age and with a noticeable accent addressed me in some kind of strange, deluded religious rhetoric, "Hear me! O ye that would threaten the Lamb of God, ye shall never reach her garden!"

As he finished his anger-filled ramble, an object appeared in the slot leading to Dionysus Park. As the shiny object moved towards us at a rapid pace, I almost immediately identified it as a torpedo. There was not any time to react before the tubular warhead impacted the train car. I let out a loud growl as I was enveloped by a chaotic sensory overload of bright light and screaming metal. Seconds later, I became aware of the sensation of sinking towards the ocean floor moments before I landed hard on my left side. The force of the impact and the shock of the torpedo's explosion proved to be too much for my body to handle and pitch black darkness shrouded my consciousness.

My time floating the dark abyss ended as the harsh feedback of my helmet's built-in radio as it powered to life echoed inside my copper façade. Opening my eyes, I saw the airlock that allowed access into Dionysus Park before me. I was on my left side and the organic material-rich grey mud of the ocean floor that had been thrown up by my frame hitting the bottom had settled back down to now cover my heavily-armored form. The foul, sludge-like substance clinged to my frame as I slowly rose to my feet.

As I did, the southern-accented voice of Sinclair piped through my radio as he continued addressing me, "…I thought that you had rode that torpedo into the old hereafter. I'm in Dionysus Park now. Train car's in shambles, leaking air. Whole park is flooded and sealed. But there's a pumping station back there in Siren Alley. If you can drain the park out, that'd let you stroll right inside."

I mentally laughed as I heard the name Siren Alley. The former quarters of the masons of Rapture and the host of Pumping Station Number 5 had an entirely different name before my death. For some inexplicable reason, the most talented architects and engineers in the world had built Rapture without any means of naturally draining the water that would inevitably invade its walls. In order to prevent the entire city from drowning, pumping stations such as the one in "Siren Alley" were built all throughout the metropolis. The almost inconceivable blunder had drastically shortened the city's lifespan because the pumps had a finite number of replacement parts and Rapture's isolation from the surface meant that even if everything had worked out like Andrew Ryan had envisioned, his life's greatest achievement would have been lucky to last more than a few decades.

Looking around, I was relieved when I saw Subject Alpha getting to his feet a few yards to my right. He was also covered in the sludge-like mud but otherwise did not seem to be any worse for wear. Looking back to my left, I was again relieved when I saw Jennifer removing an ADAM-containing sea slug from where it had been attached to one of the supports for the Atlantis Express track the was above our heads.

Glancing up towards the track, I became wary of a curious Great White shark that had arrived to investigate the disturbance caused by the torpedo. Fortunately, the massive predator was not interested in risking its life by attempting a predatory attack on a Big Daddy and it began to lazily cruise away in search of an easier meal.

As he moved towards me, my brother commented via his radio, "Lamb's torpedo defense system…that is a good sign. If The Family is getting desperate enough to use it against the train car, the rival Splicer factions will start putting pressure on them throughout the city."

Surprising me, Jennifer added via her radio, "Sofia has been so reliant upon my sisters and I and her ability to manipulate people to keep her enemies at bay that now she does not have very many alternatives to deal with this situation. By now, she must be aware of Tennenbaum and Papa Sigma as well."

I turned to face in her direction and found her standing before me. The sea slug was trying to wiggle out of her right hand's vise-like grip as she reached out and placed it in the palm of my gloved left hand. Using the same method by which I exorcised Little Sisters, I harvested the ADAM from the creature. Though it only a minute amount of the genetically corrupting substance, my body hungrily consumed it. Then, taking point, I began to make my way towards the nearby airlock to Siren Alley.

As I moved past the coral-covered support for the track, I heard a deep rumble to my right. Upon investigation, I saw one of the new rocket-launcher equipped Mass Production Models as the massive diving suit-clad humanoid walked by the nearby oval-shaped windows of Dionysus Park. The prospect of finally having to take on one of the abominations that dared to parade itself around as if it was indeed a Big Daddy riled the monster inside of me as Subject Delta had even more disdain for this new model than I did.

Moving forward, I walked around the side of the support to see the airlock entrance to Siren Alley less than fifty yards away. As I moved towards it, my radio crackled to life and, moments later, Sofia addressed me, "I see Father Whales has parted you from your craft. And yet you cling to life. Congratulations...today Delta you will meet a man who has no fear of death. And, for Eleanor, he would burn with a smile."

Father Whales? As in Simon and Daniel Whales? The two architects of Rapture? What had Sofia done to them?

Through our link, Eleanor explained, '_Mother manipulated Simon's guilt for not being able to get a new contract. Once Whales and Whales had completed their work for Ryan, they could not get another contract. Simon became increasingly depressed and my mother took advantage of him when he started going to her for sessions. Splicing has destroyed his mind and body. Be very careful when you deal with him, Father. He is a delusional psychopath._'

I replied, '_Don't worry, kid. I'll be careful._'

She remarked with a hint of frighteningly inhuman rage in her accented voice, '_Simon is lucky that I am trapped here. If I wasn't, I would find him and break the old man's neck with my bare hands._'

Entering the airlock, I said with a gentle tone, '_Calm down, Eleanor. It is alright. Everything is going to be fine._'

The powerful young woman shot back, '_No it is not! The one moment that every girl dreams of having and that bastard sullied it!_'

As my two armored companions entered the airlock, I assured her, '_There will be more, El. I promise._'

She replied with a calmer tone, '_I know that there will be, Johnny. That's not the point._'

I said, '_I'll make it up to you. The best thing about the first time is that it is the first of many._'

With everyone inside the airlock, I pulled on the cycle lever that was fashioned out of a modified ship's telegraph. The watertight exterior door closed and the water was drained out by the airlock's pumps. Just before the interior doors opened, Eleanor said with a gentle and calm tone in response, '_I know you will, Johnny. Please be careful. Do not underestimate Simon. He is convinced that I am humanity's only hope for salvation and he is spliced far beyond being human._'

Before I could reply, Subject Delta remarked with his cold, cruel tone, '_Don't worry about your precious Johnny, Master. If it bleeds, I can kill it._'

My daughter assured the monster inside of me, '_Don't be so bitter, Delta. I love you both. After all, you are both the same person._'

As the door began to open, Delta replied, '_I appreciate the lie, Master. However, we both know how this will all end. The monster never gets the happy ending. The monster never gets saved. My hands are stained with blood and I am deaf from the sound of my victims' screams inside my head. I love you more than anything in this cruel joke called life. I know you love the old man and he loves you just the same. Monsters like me do not get to be loved. We live a life of cruelty and misery…and we die a death of even more cruelty and misery. However, I love you so much that until death calls me to my final judgment, I am going to ensure that both of you get your happy ending._'

Eleanor replied with a soft tone, '_Delta…_'

However, as the door opened to reveal a war torn Siren Alley, two Leadhead Splicers, a man and a woman, armed with Thompson Submachine Guns ran into our field of view. At the same time, the deafening roar of an enraged Mass Production Model filled the air. Realizing what was happening and that a Little Sister was in trouble, I charged out of the airlock with my highly modified, industrial grade drill raised at the ready and with genetic flames emerging from the ported digits of my gauntlet-encased left hand.

To my left, I vaguely noticed a strange shrine of some kind. It was a portrait that was the size of a man's torso and the quality of the work was nearly inhuman in perfection. The subject seemed to be the tail section of a commercial airliner that was slowly sinking beneath the surface of an ocean. I nearly paused as I noticed that Rapture's Lighthouse was visible mere yards from the sinking aircraft. Suddenly, I remembered the tail section that I had seen outside Adonis Resort. The markings of the section in the painting and the one that I had seen were so identical that it was impossible that they were not the same. Someone had crashed a commercial airliner near the Lighthouse? Why?

Closing in on the two Splicers who had begun to fire their weapons at Mass Production Model, I noted that the path to the left was a dead end and that there was a Vita Chamber against the far wall. For a moment, I idly wondered why the two denizens had been together just out of sight in the far corner of a dead end path. However, I then remembered that the area had been renamed Siren Alley and realized that a man and a woman being together in an isolated spot was not uncommon in this part of Rapture.

I was almost within striking distance of the Splicers when a high explosive rocket propelled grenade struck them. The warhead's payload tore their bodies apart and I was showered with red-green blood and chunks of flesh. The explosion was close enough for the shockwave to jar my body and leave a low ringing in my ears. Letting out a growl, I turn to my right.

I was met with the sight of a straight street approximately fifty yards long. On either side of the street were ornate hardwood paneled two story buildings with one on the right and two on the left. The buildings were connected by a short bridge that spanned above the street. It was in the middle of the bridge that I saw the Mass Production Model firing an RPG at a male Leadhead Splicer.

The sight of the tall humanoid filled me with disgust and I had to swallow to clear my throat of the rising bile. This monstrosity was nothing short of a cheap parody of my kind. The true Big Daddies, the Alpha Series, did possess formidable physical strength and our weapons were tools of merciless brutality should the situation require it. However, it was our human minds that made us so effective.

This brainchild of post-Civil War Rapture was mindless brutality incarnate. As I moved towards the behemoth, the overpowering pheromones of the Little Sister began to fill my being. Glancing towards the Mass Production Model once again, I felt my stomach turn as I saw the dirty, sore-covered princess on the verge of crying as she cowered in fright of both the Splicers and the incredibly loud confrontation that was occurring mere inches away.

I managed to keep my rapidly building rage in check until the massive armored humanoid carelessly kicked the fragile little girl as he mindlessly annihilated the attacking Splicers. The blow was hard enough to knock the child down onto the floor in a heap. My rational thoughts were torn asunder as the molten hot homicidal rage of my Protector Instincts stormed into my mind. The bumbling behemoth was not fit to protect a slimy rock let alone the beautiful young princesses of Rapture! With my body feeling like an inferno from the rage coursing through my very soul and my segmented eye emitting its hellfire red, I let out a thunderous guttural Alpha Series roar that shook Siren Alley to its foundation.

The Mass Production Model did not have time to even turn around before I willed a blast of genetic flames from my ported fingertips. The behemoth let out an enraged whale-like roar as his frame was engulfed by flame. The sound of burning canvas filled the air as he wheeled around to look down at me. I flashed a cruel smirk beneath my diving helmet as the abomination fired an RPG at me. Countering the attack by powering up my drill, I sent the warhead back at the Tin Man.

The behemoth cried out in pain as the high explosive detonated against his armored chest. Taunting the wounded giant, I let out another guttural roar while I smashed my drill against the copper breastplate of my diving helmet. Operating on his basic programming, the Mass Production Model jumped from the bridge down onto the ground before me. The landing cracked the surface of the street and caused the nearby buildings to vibrate. However, I remained standing firmly upright.

The giant stood and then tossed an automated turret in my direction. Revving my drill, I charged forward in a Drill Dash. The flimsy baseball-sized turret was crushed beneath my weighted diving boot-clad feet as I quickly closed the gap between the abomination and myself. When our heavily armored forms collided, a slight growl escaped me as the force of the impact was enough to break multiple ribs and fill my ears with a ringing sound.

Slightly embarrassed because I had underestimated the weight of the much taller humanoid, I ignored the maddening agony of my ribs tearing into my internal organs as the contents of my First Aid Reservoir Tank began to pump into my body. As the giant recoiled a few steps back, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my left hand. Shuttering as I felt fresh frigid EVE being pumped into my blood stream, I moved forward and then swung my drill towards the launcher mounted over the temporarily paralyzed behemoth's right shoulder.

My drill's razor sharp tip hit home and my blow succeeded in gouging out a huge chunk of the launcher's wooden frame. Effectively disarmed, the giant let out a deafening roar and then swung his left fist at me. I staggered slightly while the sound of protesting copper filled the air as the abomination's left fist struck the right side of my helmet. Recovering quickly, I pounced on the unarmed giant.

The weight of my frame sent the behemoth onto the street on his back. As I stood over the flailing humanoid, I eyed the abomination in disgust. This was what they had replaced us with? I would sooner leave a Little Sister in the hands of a Bouncer Mass Production Model than this embarrassment of a Protector. This abomination was a metaphor for everything that was wrong with the Protector Program. Adaptability was the deciding factor in the fast-paced evolutionary arms race; not brute strength.

Revving up my drill, I sent my tool's razor sharp tip into the lightly armored "face" of the giant's strange diving helmet. The glass and canvas were little match for the hardened steel alloy of my drill and, seconds later, the humanoid was dead. As I retracted from the massive corpse, I heard the soft sound of tiny feet approaching me. Looking in the direction of the noise, I saw the Little Sister running towards me.

As the young girl neared me, I addressed Johnny Topside, '_My job is done, old man. Better get a move on…our time is running short._'

My calm, rational thoughts returned as the monster was put back in his cage. The hellish red glow of my segmented eye was replaced by its normal, calm yellow as I knelt down to be at the same level as the little girl. Her pale skin was covered with sores and the area around her mouth was stained by dried blood. The once bright red and white Sunday dress had faded to the point of almost being pink and the skirt had a rip in the area above her right leg that ran from the hem almost to the waist, revealing a trace of a pair of underwear that I could only assume had been white originally.

I recognized the sharp look in her glowing yellow eyes and could not help but smile as Eleanor raised her dirty left hand up and then gently cupped the right side of my copper face. The young girl smiled before she remarked proudly with her robotic tone, "I've got the best daddy."

I grunted, "Don't make this weird, Eleanor."

The little girl smirked before chirped, "Oh daddy...you're so big."

I let out a rumbling sigh before I grunted, "Eleanor."

She pouted before she said, "Fine…" Then, raising her arms up into the air, she said, "Eleanor want up." Sighing once again, I gently picked the child up with my open left hand and then guided her to her throne. As I did, my body was filled with a faint sense of peace as my link with Eleanor was temporarily strengthened. Once the small child was situated, I stood back upright and began to make my way towards the pumping station.

I had reached the end of the street and turned to look towards the watertight security door that lead to the pumping station when I saw a strange man hunched over and fidgeting with another shrine. The man was wearing black preacher's attire and a black hat but that was not what was unusual about him. It was the fact that his limbs were inhumanely long and thin. I felt a slight chill run down my spine as I identified the individual as a Spider Splicer.

Spider Splicers were the equivalent of Big Sisters long before the latter existed. Fast, agile, and lethal, they were not a foe to be taken lightly even by an Alpha Series Big Daddy. The fun house maze of Rapture was perfect territory for them as they contort their long thin bodies to fit between crevices and utilize the ventilation networks to ambush their victims and then escape before serious retribution could be inflicted upon them.

The Splicer finally seemed to notice my presence and looked towards me. When he did, he exclaimed with the same voice that I had heard over my radio, "The beast of Ryan lives!" Before I could react, he left the shrine and then jumped to the second floor of the nearby building. Without even missing a beat, Simon Whales continued, "Gather The Family!" Before my eyes, the heavily spliced psychopath then jumped to a makeshift bridge that was far beyond the reach of any other creature and then crawled out of sight, the telltale sound of the Spider Splicer's signature weapons, two glowing hot cargo hooks held in both hands, as they penetrated the wooden planks and were then ripped out filling the air.

Seconds later, my radio crackled to life and Sinclair said with a shocked tone, "Mother of mercy, I think that was Simon Whales! What's he done to himself? He and his brother were Rapture's architects but when Doc Lamb came along, Simon got religion. He's got a kind of church in the old pumping station. Expect a reckoning when you arrive."

I sighed. From where she was on my back, Eleanor asked, "Will things ever work out in our favor, Father?"

I grunted, "Have faith, El."

She replied, "I do have faith." I started to make my way towards the security door but then stopped when she requested, "Please say it again."

I smiled slightly beneath my emotionless façade before I grunted, "I love you, Eleanor."

Eleanor whispered, "Thank you. I love you too."

I smiled once again and then began to make my way towards the watertight door.


	22. Chapter 22: Shadows of the past

Ch. 22: Shadows of the past

* * *

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Ugh…this chapter has been driving me mad!

I've rewritten this thing every weekend since the last week of December! Every time I would finish it, I would read through it and start over the next weekend because I could not get it the way I wanted it. Even this version is not that good in my opinion but I figured that I have put off updating the story just because I am OCD about getting my chapters to be exactly what I want them to be.

Please bear with this chapter despite it not being very good in my opinion. I will try to redeem it in the next chapter.

As I said, this is not a literal adaptation of the storyline found in BioShock 2. The general sequence of events will be the same but I am altering things both for plot reasons and because I do not want to bore the readers who have probably, like me, played the second game so many times that you wore out the original game disc that you bought the day it was first released and had to buy the Ultimate Rapture Edition so that you could play it again. Okay...maybe not like me but you get the idea xDDD

Anyway,

In this chapter, I hint at some upcoming dilemmas and trips down memory lane in future chapters.

I hope everyone had a safe and wonderful holiday!

Read and review if you want.

* * *

Looking back down from where the twisted creature that Simon had become had scurried away, I examined my surroundings. I was standing between two buildings with the entrance to the next area of Siren Alley just beyond the security door to my right and the Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine along the wall beneath the overhang of the building's second floor to my left. Overhead, connecting the second floor of the two structures, was the remains of a crosswalk. A rusted metal barrel was in the street to my left and Splicers had ignited an inferno inside of it using what appeared to be panels of the ornate skin of the structures surrounding me as fuel. Patches of rubble also dotted the street in both purposeful stacks by the residents of the decaying area and also where they had fallen from the surrounding infrastructure.

If I was recalling correctly, the path that continued around the side of the building on my left led to the dead end across from the apartment complex that the majority of the residents called home before the war. I had no intention of waltzing into the wolf's den unless it was necessary. Turning my attention back to the security door to my right, I began to make my way towards it.

Moments later, as the watertight door opened, I saw the short path that led to the auxiliary station for the main pump that was further into Siren Alley. To my right, on the black and white checkerboard tile that made up the floor of the short path into the station, was a small red wagon with several clear glass jars that contained fireflies inside of its cargo bay. Nestled between the jars was a glowing red Plasmid Vial.

Remaining wary of the Splicers in the room just past the wagon, I inched close enough to the vial to make out the worn label on the side of the ornate container. The raised lettering on the side of the vial was nearly worn down to the point of being illegible but I was able to read enough of it to identify the Plasmid as being Security Command.

I paused for a moment. Security Command? The Plasmid was often overlooked due to the fact that it did not harm its victim directly but instead used genetic insects that had a substance in their bodies that tricked Rapture's Security System into targeting the individual for a brief period of time. The insects were contained in a kind of ball that sprouted out of the wielder's hand. The wielder had to throw the ball and hit his or her assailant. At which time, the insects would be released and they land on the nearby Splicer.

As I stood before the Plasmid vial, Eleanor commented through our physiological bond to prevent alerting the Splicers, '_Interesting…it appears that I have not given her enough credit. Her will is stronger than I had anticipated._'

Intrigued, I inquired, '_Who?_'

The young goddess explained, '_Cindy Meltzer. She is one of the little girls that Mother kidnapped from the surface to make the new generation of Little Sisters. However, this one was not a random kidnapping. Her father was investigating the kidnappings and, as a warning, Mother had Cindy kidnapped. Though Cindy was turned into a gatherer, she still found a way to send messages to her father. Now that he is here, she appears to be sending him items to aid him. I had not anticipated this…it could mean trouble._'

While using my Telekinesis Plasmid to levitate the vial into the air and then towards my brother, I assured her, '_I doubt it will be, kid. The enemy of my enemy is my friend._'

I heard her let out a sarcastic huff before she said, '_For a man that does everything he can to stay out of the spotlight and be the voice of reason, you have an uncanny ability to exploit and manipulate people. Perhaps, you are not so different from people such as Andrew Ryan and Mother._'

Her comment, though sarcastic, filled me with a sense of worry for a moment. Past the façade of the confident young woman, Eleanor still viewed me in the same way that she had when she was a child. Just as any parent would, I did want Eleanor to be like me in some ways but I also did not want her to be like me in other ways.

I remarked, '_It is nothing to be proud of, kid._'

She asked in a confused tone, '_What nonsense are you speaking, Johnny?_'

I sighed before I explained, '_Being able to hurt people without feeling guilty._'

I sensed Eleanor smirk as her cold, authoritative blue eyes surfaced before she said, '_Come now, Father. You know as well as I do that this world is not black and white._'

Despite the chill that her authoritarian side gave me, I still reprimanded her, '_Just because your old man does something a certain way, that does not mean that you have to, kid._'

By then, Alpha had spliced Security Command and we continued forward. Before us was the interior room of the auxiliary pumping station. It was two-stories with a winding metal staircase in the center to allow access to the upper floor. Intertwined in the staircase was a collection of large metal pipes that formed a structure resembling a column. The pipes were leaking and, thus, an ankle deep pool of ocean water had formed at the base of the structure that extended out until it reached the raised surface of the surrounding first floor.

It was in this pool of water that I saw three Splicers and a dormant Security Bot. The denizens, two men and one woman, were clad in clothing that had once been respectable for upper middle class residents of Rapture but had degraded to now being little more than rags that were barely clinging on to the horribly twisted frames of the individuals. If it were not for the haphazard and crude stitching and repair work, I was certain that the patches of fabric would be on the wet disgusting floor.

The men were armed with makeshift bludgeoning weapons. I noticed that one of the men, a rather haggard-looking individual in his late forties or early fifties, had a rusting monkey wrench that had, welded into its jaws, a kind of spiked ball that had thick metal spikes as thick as a built man's pinkie finger protruding out at seemingly random angles. The other man, this one much younger and with an air of a laborer about him, was wielding a crescent wrench that had had its open end broken in half and then the entire head bent so that it now resembled a cargo hook.

Meanwhile, the woman, a middle-aged individual that had clearly fallen hard from grace judging by the visible, straight line scars on her wrists and also by the incredible level of ADAM degradation that had been inflicted upon her body, was armed with a once ornate pump-action shotgun that had been modified to be fully automatic. In addition, she had a snub-nose revolver in a holster that was strapped to her sore-covered right thigh.

As I neared the Splicers, I saw the sweeping red light of a Security Camera as it slowly turned in its housing with its aging mechanisms protesting loudly. The older Thuggish Splicer had just become aware of my presence, indicated by a confused grunting noise, before I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported fingertips of my gloved left hand into the pool of water. Almost instantly, the denizens cried out in agony as their frames were surrounded by bright blue electrical arcs. As the twisted addicts screamed in pain, the Security Bot let out a loud electrical hiss as the high-energy genetic bolts severely damaged its CPU before, seconds later, the automaton exploded in a shower of shrapnel and fire.

To my surprise, the female Leadhead Splicer, who were notorious for avoiding physical trauma, was able to weather the electrical assault while the two male Thuggish Splicers, who were notorious for their suicidal combat strategies, collapsed into heaps in the pool of water. However, as she tried to orient herself, suddenly, a bright blue ball hit her frame. The ball exploded upon contract and genetic insects could be seen crawling upon her wet frame. Moments later, the bewildered denizen was lit up by the Security Camera's bright white light as the shrill alarm of Rapture's Security System sounded through Siren Alley.

Sensing the danger that she was in, the woman sprinted towards a Circus of Values Vending Machine that I could now see where it was against the far left wall of the first floor. The Splicer's single-minded drive to reach the vending machine was interrupted by a hail of .45 caliber submachine gun fire from the two Security Bots that had arrived to deal with the security threat. She cried out as the rounds pierced her frame and caused blood to spray out of her body. With the years of ADAM built up in her body keeping her alive, the Splicer fired her modified shotgun at the pair of flying submachine guns.

The experienced combatant succeeded in destroying the two Security Bots and then turned her attention back to the vending machine. Inches from her destination, the woman was again assaulted by a hail of submachine gun fire as two more bots arrived. Out of either bad luck or the cold, heartless nature of survival, when the Splicer turned to fire her shotgun, the bots' gunfire hit her modified firearm multiple times in rapid succession, effectively rendering it useless. The denizen was far from giving into the inevitable as she threw her destroyed weapon aside and then drew her revolver. As her frame was being shot to pieces, the woman fired her sidearm and succeeded in destroying one of the bots.

The shrill alarm continued to blare as the Leadhead Splicer quickly unhinged the revolver's cylinder, ejected the spent pistol cartridges, and then reloaded the weapon. However, as she snapped the cylinder back into place, a final hail of submachine gun fire struck her ravaged frame. In one final act of defiance, the Splicer fired a single round from her revolver as she collapsed back onto the front of the vending machine. The round destroyed the bot but it was too late for its master's operator. Leaving a blood trail along the length of the Circus of Values Vending Machine as she slid down its exterior, the woman collapsed on the dirty, black and white checkerboard tiled floor at the base of the machine, the revolver still held tightly in her right hand.

The vending machine's barely functional speakers powered to life and the almost unintelligible voice of the clown said, "Come back when you get some money, buddy." The final insult came moments later when the clown laughed in a cruel manner before the speakers gave off an electrical crackle. Then, the room, save for the sounds of water flowing through the pipes and the protesting joints of the Security Camera, fell silent.

As I moved forward into the auxiliary pumping station, I remarked through our bond, '_That's why you shouldn't feel the need to follow in your old man's footsteps, kid. I didn't have the luxury of a choice because of the war but you do. With your potential, you can be whatever you want to be. Don't be like me. Life has a way of making people pay for what they have done no matter how far they run or try to fight back._'

My beloved daughter replied, '_Johnny, you can be an irritatingly stubborn old man at times and you certainly are not a saint but you have a good heart, are unafraid to stand up for what you believe in, and are willing to do anything for those that you care about. I told you before, Father…that suit does not define who you are. I love and admire you, Johnny._'

By then, I had entered the station and had hit the Security Camera with a blast of Electro Bolt to temporarily disable it for a long enough period of time for Alpha to hit it with a Hack Rivet. Upon investigating the first floor, I realized that there was a second flight of stairs behind the left wall that led up to the second floor. While Jennifer investigated the second flight of stairs, I ascended the main flight in the center of the station to reach the second floor. As I neared the top of the staircase, I found a Sentry Turret waiting for me near the far right wall of the second floor next to an additional hallway that was blocked by a closed security gate.

My entombed right hand gripped the throttle of my industrial-grade drill and, as it roared to life, the turret's .30 caliber machine gun rounds were deflected away by the electromagnetic dynamo that I had mounted to its worn steel alloy hide. Meanwhile, I willed another blast of genetic electricity from the ported digits of my left hand. With the turret disabled, I powered down my drill and moved aside to allow my brother to ascend the stairs and fire a Hack Rivet into the sentry. With the turret pacified, we ascended the last few steps to the second floor.

The second floor had significantly less floor space than the first floor as it formed the shape of an "L" along the back right wall of the pumping station before it met the second flight of stairs on the far left side. With access to the additional area of the second floor blocked by the security gate, I focused my attention on the watertight security door that was slightly off-center along the back wall. To the left of the door mounted to the wall was a Gene Bank and, on the floor, was a Pneumo Mail Tube and a seemingly abandoned steamer trunk.

As I walked towards the door, I grunted to my little companion, "I love you too, Eleanor. At the same time, you can't blame me for wanting the best for you."

The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister chirped brightly, "You are what's best for me, Papa."

I let out an amused grunt in response. Having reached the door, I found that it was locked. A combination lock was visible to the left of the sealed obstacle. Irritated, I scrutinized the objects surrounding the door. I saw several lit white candles both around and on the worn brown leather trunk, the telltale trails of dried wax around the bases of the candles indicating that they had only been there for a few days at most. However, despite my investigation, I failed to see any clues as to ascertain the identities of the four numbers of the combination lock.

Alpha commented with his Alpha Series voice, "This was not locked before."

After turning to face him, I asked, "When was the last time you were here?"

My brother's mischievous side surfaced as he explained, "When I was gathering ADAM for Tenenbaum. She told me that Eleanor had informed her that Wales was visiting her mother in Persephone and that it was a perfect opportunity to send a message to Lamb. So, I gathered in the lower level of the 'church' and performed some remodeling when the Splicers tried to retrieve the Little Sister. Judging by this lock, it seems that I made my point a little too well. Sorry, sir."

Giving off a reassuring grunt, I began to think through my opinions. Trying to "hack" the internal mechanisms of the lock could backfire and destroy the security device, thus leaving the door inaccessible except though the use of heavy demolition charges that we did not have. If I tried to force my way through the security bulkhead, there was a chance that it would trigger a response from the Security System and possibly trigger a failsafe lockout of the main pumping station. With four slots and ten numbers per slot, that meant that it was either approximately one million possible combinations or approximately ten thousand possible combinations for the lock.

Just as it seemed as if we had hit a dead end, the porcelain doll-like left hand of the Little Sister appeared in my field of view. Though my segmented eye, I followed her extended index finger down to the side of the steamer trunk while she chirped with her robotic tone, "I spy with my little eyes, something that does not belong, Daddy."

Moments later, I saw what she was pointing at. There, leaning against the wall and trunk, was a seemingly abandoned Accu-Vox. Intrigued and with no other potential leads, I slowly lowered my massive armored frame down until I was able to carefully grip the small, rectangular device with my much larger left hand. After standing back upright, I inspected the diary while I held it a few inches away from my glowing golden yellow eye.

The device had certainly seen better days. The glass cover for the audiotape slot was largely missing save for a few jagged remnants along the perimeter of the cover's housing and the object's metal and wood panel casing had cracked in multiple locations to reveal the internal wiring and mechanisms. I had my doubts that the diary was still functional but, with nothing to lose, I raised it up towards the young princess who was hunched over the top of my armored head to get a better look at the device.

Giggling, the small child pressed the play button on the diary. The sound of electrical buzzing filled the air as the badly damaged Accu-Vox played the audio recording. Despite the partially functioning speakers, I was able to make out parts of the message that was recorded by "Father Wales" seemingly intended for someone in particular.

"…Rapture's…together. Do…remember? Ryan…astray…brother. Turned…almighty. Doctor Lamb…Daniel. I left…gift…Pink Pearl."

Though there was more left on the recording, the damaged device could not play it. Dropping the Accu-Vox onto the ground, I began to decipher the parts of the recording that the device had managed to play.

Jennifer commented with her voice being slightly distorted by her helmet, "Daniel? He must mean his brother. He runs a brothel in the ruins of the Pink Pearl. I have overheard Sofia and Whales talking about his brother a few times. He seems to be very distraught about his brother's current 'occupation' and rejection of The Family. Lamb has been urging him to keep attempting to reach out to Daniel to 'save him damnation'. If Whales left a gift for his brother in the Pink Pearl, chances are high that it is a clue to the combination."

I grunted in response, "Well, it is our only lead right now and unless one of you wants to try to guess the code, it is probably going to be our best bet to get past this lock." Jennifer gave the slightest of nods while Alpha replied with an agreeing grunt. I started to turn around to go back to the area of Siren Alley that we had been in moments prior. However, as I did, I paused and then smiled slightly beneath my monstrous façade with whatever horribly twisted physical features that remained of my lips as I heard a loud gurgling from behind me.

With a gentle tone, I asked my temporary charge, "Are you hungry? There is no need to be bashful…just say so."

The embarrassed tone in her siren-like voice would have easily been able to make anyone fall under her spell when the Little Sister replied, "Ju…just a little…Da...Daddy."

I had to force myself to contain the amused grunt that manifested inside me in response to Eleanor's awkward attempt to put on a brave face. Making my way back to the first floor of the pumping station, I assured her, "You are not a burden, Eleanor. You have never been."

I was nearing the exit when she remarked with an uncharacteristic, bitter tone that struck a chord within me and caused me to pause, "Stupid…stupid...you stupid old man…agh…damn this thing inside of me…damn that lying bitch and her obsession with that man…damn this city…"

A wave of will-shattering sorrow and chocking fury rushed into my mind through our physiological bond as Eleanor continued, "How can you think that you stupid man? After everything that I have done to you because of my selfishness…are you a masochist or just incredibly stupid?"

Slightly taken aback, I started to reply, "El…"

However, she interrupted me as she asked with a much softer tone, "I am the reason that you are like this now…why do you not resent me?"

Moving through the security door once the aged mechanisms opened it, I replied, "It is only natural for people in a close relationship to look out for each other. I do not regret what has happened."

We had exited the auxiliary pumping station and were standing just beyond the security door with the Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine that was flush up against the two story building approximately twenty yards directly in front of us. Directly above us was the bridge that connected the building before us with the path that was above us and partially snaked around the perimeter of this section of Siren Alley. Clouds of smoke from the multiple lit burn barrels around the decaying district lingered in the air in a way that resembled fog. Meanwhile, the distant incoherent ramblings and cries of the resident Splicers and the approaching mournful whale call-like moans of a Mass Production Model echoed through the gloomy war-torn streets of the district.

From where she was on my back, Eleanor remarked in almost a whisper, "If you had not come to my rescue at Dionysus Park…"

I interrupted her to reassure her, "Ryan would have come for me sooner or later after Sofia was imprisoned. Besides, as I recall, the entire park was flooded not too long afterwards. Everyone was killed. Do you really think that I would have fared any better if I had not come to your aid? Like I said, it is only natural for people in a close relationship to look out for each other."

The little girl was silent for a moment before she informed me with her normal robotic tone, "We found one!" I leaned forward to look down at my feet. There, in the middle of the road curled up on its right side, was the rotting corpse of what had once been a woman.

I felt a sense of disgust as I noted that the human scavengers had picked over her body and removed most of the articles of clothing and any other items that had been on her person that would allow them to survive just one more minute in the decaying metropolis. Without clothing, Splicers could only be, at best, described as humanoid and this woman was no exception. The genetic damage caused by ADAM and the subsequent years of starvation had left her with the distinctive sexual features of a prepubescent girl. Thus, the bare, sore-covered body before us resembled a kind of macabre adult-sized child.

The unfortunate woman's demise was not clearly discernible. I could not see any signs of external trauma to her body. At the same time, the corpse did not have any indications of environmental trauma such as hypothermia. While it was possible that she had succumbed to some kind of ailment that did not manifest external symptoms, I had a sickening suspicion that what a woman would have to do on a daily basis to just survive in post-Civil War Rapture had inflicted far more psychological trauma than she could handle. Psychological trauma was just as lethal as any physical trauma.

I slowly lowered myself down onto my left knee and then waited for my charge to disembark. When she had, I stood back upright while mentally preparing myself for what was about to happen once again. As the small child stood above the corpse and looked at me with an enthusiastic expression, my body reacted to the different pheromones that her body began to emit. Her statements were lost to me as the golden yellow light of my eye and auxiliary lights changed to a hellfire red while the molten rage of my Protector Instincts stormed into my mind. A feeling of power consumed my body as the monster Subject Delta was let out of his cage.

Seconds later, with the pathetic old man's interference suppressed, I let out an ear-shattering guttural roar that rocked Siren Alley to its foundation. Having been listening to my master and the old man's conversation, I could not help but audibly remark to both of them with my deep rumbling tone, "You're both pathetic. What is done, is done. No amount of bitching and moaning about it is going to change what has happened. So both of you shut the fuck up and have your melodramatic hugging sessions about how life is unfair after you get out of this shit hole."

Before either of them could react to my comment, a hail of small arms fire began to impact my heavily armored frame. Turning my entire frame so that I was looking up to the left side of the second floor walkway of the building directly in front of me, I saw three Splicers, two women and one man, armed with modified Welbey .38 caliber revolvers. The low velocity projectiles, the ones that managed to hit the lightly armored sections of my suit, were but a mere minor threat to me thanks to my recent genetic modifications. The angle that the Splicers were firing from rendered them at a major disadvantage as well as the majority of their rounds simply impacted and then ricocheted off my copper diving helmet, causing me mild discomfort as they each caused a deep, vibrating echo inside the helmet.

Letting out an irritated growl, I willed a blast of genetic flame from the ported digits of my gauntlet-encased left hand. The Splicers were almost immediately engulfed by flames. The man, who was clad in what had once been a business suit, yelled with an anguished cry, "Oh shit…" as he jumped over the railing in front of him and then landed on top of his head on the harsh unforgiving street below. The younger of the two women, who was clad in what had once been a working class mechanic's attire, screamed in agony as she fired a final shot before collapsing forward onto the floor. The last Splicer simply collapsed against the wall behind her without so much as a sound.

"Come little children, I'll take thee away…into a land of enchantment. Come little children, the time's come to play…here in my garden of shadows."

The angelic voice of my beautiful master began to echo through the entire district as she indulged in her usual habit while she was gathering.

The sick sound of suction drew my attention to my right where I found an enraged Jennifer draining the ADAM out of a male Thuggish Splicer with her massive needle-like weapon as she held him skewered in the air above her. The armored goddess-like young woman let out a cruel laugh seconds later before she violently threw the depleted corpse into the wall of the nearby closed grocery store that was directly to our right across the street. The high pitched report of Subject Alpha's Prototype Rivet Gun filled the air and I looked to my left just in time to see the heavily armored Alpha Series Big Daddy finishing off a small group of Thuggish Splicers that he had tricked with his Decoy Plasmid.

"Follow sweet children, I'll show thee the way…"

Moments later, attempting to catch us off guard, three Thuggish Splicers, all of them men dressed in working class attire, jumped down from the bridge above us and landed directly before me. Revving up my highly modified drill, I charged forward as fast as my massive frame would allow. The three denizens did not have enough time to react before I slammed into the middle of them. The sounds of cracking bones and soft bodies being hit by a heavy mass filled the smoky air as the humanoids were propelled several feet through the air.

I quickly moved to finish off the three individuals before they could get to their feet. I stopped when I was standing before the recovering men. After revving up my drill once again, I sent its razor sharp whirling tip into the skull of the middle individual. The would-be child murderer screamed briefly over the sound of his skull being penetrated and simultaneously ripped apart in a cloud of red-green blood before his body began to spasm as the tip of my tool's bit made contact with the wet concrete surface of the street.

Suddenly, an intense stab of pain shot through my body originating from my right knee. Letting out an enraged guttural roar, I twisted my torso to find that the Splicer to my right had raised himself up to be propped up by his left knee and had swung his section of pipe into the back of my right knee where it was not protected by the copper armor knee pad in an attempt to use my body's own heavily armored and spliced frame against me by crippling one of my knees. Though he had succeeded in shattering the critical joint, he had underestimated the effects of the staggering amount of ADAM in my body. Combined with the artificial rage of my Protector Instincts and the effects of the Alpha Series Big Daddy Gene Tonics that had been forced into my genetic code, the cursed substance allowed my frame to perform well beyond the range of any run-of-the-mill human or Splicer.

"…through all the pain…"

Ignoring the agony of my shattered knee being repaired by my suit's built-in First Aid System, I ripped my drill out of the corpse that was at my feet as I swung my right arm in an arc to my right. The grooves of my drill struck the side of the man's head with a sickening thud and the Splicer was sent onto his side as a result of the brutal impact. Before he could recover, I pivoted on my right foot to bring the sole of my weighted diving boot entombed left foot down on top of the denizen's already cracked skull.

No sooner had I crushed the man's skull beneath my foot before I heard something strike the back left corner of my helmet. Rotating my entire frame so that I was facing the direction of the impact, I found the third Thuggish Splicer completely back on his feet with a rusty monkey wrench held at the ready in his disfigured right hand. With his face twisted in an expression of homicidal desperation, the man jumped back slightly before propelling himself forward to strike me with his crude bludgeoning weapon. However, reaching out with my left hand, I grabbed the addict by his throat and then crushed the underlying vertebrae.

"…and the sorrow."

After dropping the twitching body onto the ground, I turned to my right to see Jennifer throwing balls of genetic flame at four male Thompson Submachine Gun-wielding Leadhead Splicers that had approached our position from down the street that led to The Pink Pearl. The sound of Alpha's Rivet Gun drew my attention back to my left where I found him firing several Trap Rivets into the exterior of a chunk of concrete that he was levitating with his Telekinesis Plasmid. Genuinely intrigued by my brother's actions, I observed the Protector as he placed no less than a dozen Trap Rivets into the debris before then sending the object flying towards an approaching group of six Thuggish Splicers. The lead denizen was knocked off her feet as the chunk of concrete smashed into her and the crowd behind her was torn to shreds when the Trap Rivets discharged their secondary projectiles.

"Weep not poor children…"

The sound of cackling laughter and metal hooks being ripped out of wooden planks drew my attention back up to the second floor of the building before me. There, I saw the unmistakable sight of a Spider Splicer. The horribly twisted man laughed for a moment as he stared down at me with bloodshot eyes from where he was perched on the side of the wall. Then, the deranged individual launched himself towards me.

Revving up my industrial-grade drill, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from my left hand into the incoming humanoid. The man sputtered as his body was enveloped by electrical arcs. Then, as the defenseless Spider Splicer neared my position, I thrust the whirling drill's razor sharp point up to meet him. Unable to move due to the high-powered electrical attack, the potential threat to my master was powerless to prevent my drill's bit from penetrating into the center of his chest to effectively impale him.

My body was showered by the Splicer's blood as my drill continued to spin while I held him up in the air above me. Yelling in pain and murderous fury, the humanoid thrust both of his molten hot cargo hooks into my frame. A flood of agony erupted inside my body as my assailant's left hook penetrated deep into my right shoulder to lodge itself into my shoulder blade and his right hook penetrated the left side of my upper torso to lodge itself partially through a gap between two of my ribs. Meanwhile, his clawed feet began to slash at the front of my upper thighs though they were unable to penetrate the thick canvas and leather.

"…for life is this way…"

Reaching down to my diving knife where it was screwed into its sheath strapped to the outer side of my left leg near my waist with my left hand, I continued to glare at the disgusting abomination of Rapture's madness that was impaled by my drill from beneath my segmented glass eye. The Spider Splicer desperately tried to remove his hooks from my massive frame but he was unable to do so before, having unscrewed my magnetic diving knife from its sheath, I spun my utility tool in the palm of my gloved left hand so that its blade was pointing up and then thrust it straight up into my assailant.

The deranged humanoid most likely never felt the tip of my knife as it penetrated through the thin flesh at the back of his lower jaw and continued up to sever his spinal cord from the base of his skull. The Splicer's body immediately ceased all movement and I removed my knife before then swinging my right arm down to my right to remove the corpse from my powered down drill. As I screwed my diving knife back into its sheath, I look to my left to see Subject Alpha being swarmed by a group of Thuggish Splicers. I smirked beneath my copper façade as I almost felt sorry for them.

A business suit-clad man wielding a monkey wrench lunged forward towards the Alpha Series Big Daddy in a full body swing while a woman wearing a badly damaged bunny mask followed close behind her comrade with her section of pipe raised above her head. The veteran Protector swiftly pivoted on his left foot, causing the man to miss by inches. The confused Splicer staggered forward past my brother as he tried to regain his footing. However, he had only taken a few steps before Alpha raised the muzzle of his Prototype Rivet Gun up to the back of his head and discharged a single rivet into the base of his skull. As the lifeless body of the male Splicer fell forward onto the street, Alpha pivoted on his left foot once again, this time to turn one hundred and eighty degrees. His swift movement caught the woman by surprise and she too was eliminated by a single rivet to the base of her skull as she staggered past the seasoned combatant.

"…murdering beauty…"

Alpha turned to face the three remaining Splicers just as they, running towards him in a line, were less than five yards away. Raising his Rivet Gun, my brother eliminated the middle individual with a headshot. The two remaining assailants closed the remaining distance before he could fire a second round. However, as they swung their crude weapons, the left Splicer's being a section of pipe and the right Splicer's being a homemade tomahawk crafted out of a broken broom handle and a meat cleaver, the Big Daddy swung the side of his left fist into the side of left individual's skull while simultaneously blocking the right individual's strike by raising his Rivet Gun up at an angle.

A revolver-wielding Leadhead Splicer jumped down from the bridge above me and then hunched over my master with ravenous hunger clearly evident in her body language. Meanwhile, in my peripheral vision, I saw Jennifer pinned to the ground beneath the ape-like frame of a Brute Splicer, who had seemingly forgotten about the nearby Little Sister judging by the disgusting, hungry expression on his disfigured face as he examined the beautiful goddess-like young woman beneath him.

"…and passions."

Revving up my blood-covered drill, I advanced up behind the woman in front of me.

"Hush now…"

Before the Splicer on the right could react, Alpha grabbed the crafted tomahawk and then tore it from the man's grasp with his gauntlet-encased left hand.

"…dear children…"

Jennifer let out an amused mechanical-sounding laugh as she noticed the lustful expression on the abomination's lumpy face. Then, to the shock of the Brute Splicer, the Elite Big Sister vanished in a cloud of blue particles.

"…it must be this way."

I let out a guttural roar as I thrust my drill's razor sharp tip into the female Leadhead Splicer's back.

Alpha swung his left arm back to his left and buried the cleaver's blade inside the other Splicer's skull, the force of the impact alone being enough to send the woman onto the ground in a heap. The remaining disarmed man had a look of numb shock on his bandaged face as the Alpha Series Big Daddy turned back and then aimed his Prototype Rivet Gun at the denizen head. With the muzzle of his tool nearly placed against the narrow path of skin between the Splicer's eyes, Alpha fired his weapon.

As the confused ape-like Splicer glanced around in search of the armored young woman, Jennifer materialized out of a blue cloud on the second floor of the building behind him. The elite predator lowered herself down to the ground to resemble a cat that was about to pounce on its unsuspecting prey and then leaped forward. The Brute Splicer had just enough time to turn to face the incoming assassin before she impacted his frame.

"To weary of life…"

Just as I cast the corpse of the woman aside, I saw two more Spider Splicers lunging at me from the second floor of the building in front of us. I did not have enough time to react and seconds later, I found myself with the two irritating pests attached to my frame as if I was an elephant being attacking by a pack of hyena. I let out an enraged guttural roar as I felt their cargo hooks ripping into my body. I began to violently twist and turn my besieged frame in an attempt to dislodge the cackling Splicers but my efforts failed to yield any results and they continued their assault. For now, my autonomous First Aid System was preventing any serious damage and the two addicts were too far gone mentally to be able to figure out to attack the tanks and IV Lines on my back or the two hoses of my Rebreather System.

"…and deceptions…"

Having grown tired of the disgusting parasites and not willing to risk the appearance of another threat to my beloved master while I was unable to properly defend her, I steeled myself to prepare for the agony that I was about to endure. Then, with both Eleanor's and the Little Sister's safety the only thing on my mind, I pressed the palm of my gloved left hand against my chest. My agonized roar rocked the district as I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my left hand into my own frame.

Electrical arcs appeared on the exterior of my segmented eye as my heavily armored body was paralyzed by the incredible power of my own Plasmid. I felt several of my bones crack as a result of the attack though, thanks to the fact that my suit was designed to allow the effective use of Plasmids in combat, my First Aid System was unaffected by the high-powered electrical attack. The taste of cold peanut butter briefly manifested inside whatever was left of my human predecessor's mouth only to be replaced moments later by the revolting taste of warm iron, indicating that I had involuntarily bitten down on what remained of my tongue.

However, my tactic succeeded in dislodging the two Spider Splicers, who had fallen to the ground as their bodies violently shock as a result of the genetic electrical attack. My Big Daddy physique allowed me to recover before the abominations. Pivoting on my left foot, I brought the sole of my right diving boot down on top of the skull of the paralyzed individual on my left. I forced myself to ignore the sight of blood and brain matter on the copper surface of my right boot as I pivoted once again to face the remaining Splicer.

The male humanoid had managed to stand just in time for me to clamp down on his right shoulder with my left hand and then thrust my upper body down to smash my copper diving helmet, which easily weighed more than one hundred pounds due to the reinforcements and modifications done to it, into his forehead in a brutal headbutt. The savage blow split open the man's forehead and likely all but rendered him unconscious.

"Rest now, my children…"

I took a step back before delivering the fatal blow by thrusting the tip of my drill into the left side of the denizen's weakened skull. I felt a small sense of satisfaction upon seeing the Splicer collapse in heap on the wet concrete street. Letting out a victorious guttural roar, I returned to my post to guard my master.

"…for soon we'll away…"

In my peripheral vision, I saw Jennifer calmly standing on top of the corpse of the Brute Splicer. The ape-like man was on his back and his body had been savagely beaten and repeatedly stabbed by the Elite Big Sister's needle-like weapon. Understandably, the powerful young woman had made her would-be defiler's demise as miserable as possible. Noticing my gaze, she jumped down from the corpse and then commented with a flat tone in a final insult to the deceased brute, "Unsatisfying and boring. Typical...they always take pride in size but put no effort into their endurance or even learning creative techniques to keep me interested. I'm now left feeling frustrated and cheated."

Drawing a blank as to how to properly respond to her comment, I grunted in mutual agreement about how frustrating an unsatisfying opponent was when they had shown promise. However, there was something about her choice of words that seemed too deliberate and left me feeling uneasy. A heavily-built male Thuggish Splicer rushed at the downtrodden young woman with a worn sledgehammer held in both of his hands. However, without even looking away from me, the Elite Big Sister dispatched the otherwise intimidating-looking individual with comical ease using her Telekinesis Plasmid and her custom, arm-mounted weapon to impale him.

As she drained the ADAM from the Splicer's body, Jennifer let out a sigh and then accused me, "It is your fault, Papa Delta." She looked at the struggling individual in the air above her for a moment before she looked back at me and continued, "Before, I was satisfied by the performance of opponents such as this pathetic weakling. Now, I find myself wishing that they would forget how to breathe. The way that you handled me…that creative way you penetrated my body with your pole...then chasing me down to physically force me into submission...leaving me unable to stand or even really move…you have set my standards too high. I demand that you take responsibility for how you have spoiled me and find the time to satisfy me again."

Confused by what the female Protector was doing, I became irritated. Fighting and killing came naturally to me but the moment that the fighting ended, I found myself unable to understand the actions of those around me. Topside was a foolish old man but he certainly understood people far better than I did. Lately, I had given up on trying to understand anything other than my job as the monster Subject Delta as even my master had started to babble utter nonsense such as those feelings of guilt for what happened in the past.

"…into the calm and quiet. Tada!"

Looking back at my master, I found her standing before me just in time to see her thrust the needle of her Gathering Tool into my left thigh. As my body eagerly accepted the flood of fresh ADAM, I was never so grateful for returning back to my slumber to await when I would be called upon again to fulfill the only role that a monster such as myself could perform.

As the monster went back into his cage and my rational thoughts returned, I heard him state with what I could have sworn was an embarrassed tone, '_You deal with this shit, old man. Nonsense…all of it. I'm done trying to understand what you all babble on about._'

Looking at the mischievous Big Sister, whose portholes were now giving off a golden yellow light, I started to grunt with my Alpha Series voice, "Jennifer…"

However, the young woman interrupted me by laughing for a moment before saying with an apologetic tone, "I'm sorry…I know Papa Delta belongs to Sister Eleanor…but…you cannot blame a hormonal young predator for her desires, can you?"

I replied, "I understand but please try to restrain yourself in the future."

Jennifer promised, "I will, Papa Delta."

From where she was standing beside me, Eleanor chirped with a disturbingly happy tone, "Please do, Sister Jennifer. I would hate for your papa's sacrifice to have been in vain because I had to kill you for being a stupid bitch who did not know her place and tried to get between Papa Delta and I."

Waving her gloved right hand in front of her, the Elite Big Sister remarked with a bored tone, "Yes, yes…"

By that time, Subject Alpha had joined us. Moving towards the building in front of her, Jennifer informed the three of us, "I will scout ahead. Rendezvous with me in front of The Pink Pearl when you have resupplied and prepared yourselves. The building is a known death trap for Protectors so I would advise you to be thoroughly prepared before waltzing in there to get into Daniel's office." Before we could stop her, the stubborn young woman jumped up to the second floor of the building in front of us and then disappeared from view as she moved towards The Pink Pearl.

Once the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister was situated on her throne on my back, I began to make my way to the Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine to upgrade my body using the ADAM that Eleanor had just injected into me. As I did, Alpha grunted while walking next to me, "I am concerned about Jennifer, sir."

I replied in agreement, "So am I. There is no telling what kind of demons she has accumulated. However, she is strong-willed and we aren't exactly socially well-adjusted ourselves. Let's just keep an eye on her for now. Hopefully it is just her inexperience with having long-term companions because of Sofia forcing her to be an assassin for The Family. Like I said, we aren't exactly socially well-adjusted ourselves so let's just give her some time."

My brother said in response, "Yes, sir."

By then, we had reached the Gatherer's Garden. There was no telling what awaited us inside The Pink Pearl. We would need to be as prepared as possible to survive the death trap and return to the locked security door with the code from Daniel's office. Reaching out with my left hand, I inserted my left arm into the slot in the vending machine to allow it to verify that I had enough ADAM to purchase new genetic modifications.


	23. Chapter 23: Exploited Souls

Ch. 23: Exploited Souls

* * *

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry for the wait!

In this chapter, Eleanor confronts several harsh realities and grows as a result of them.

Thank you for the feedback everyone! I appreciate it!

Read and review if you want.

* * *

After the machine had verified that I had enough ADAM in my system to purchase the products held within its worn frame, I began to browse through the available genetic upgrades. There was another upgrade to how much physical punishment my body could withstand and also another upgrade to how much EVE my body could store within its blood stream at one time. In addition, I saw an upgrade for the Electro Bolt and Incinerate! Plasmids. As I continued to look through the available products, I saw the basic versions of the Winter Blast, Insect Swarm, and Cyclone Trap Plasmids.

Naturally, it was tempting to want to splice both new Plasmids and their improved variants to be able to possess even more god-like power. Human nature was such that one always preferred overt power over covert power. Indeed, in a perfect world, I would have been able to splice a wide variety of the powerful genetic weapons. Unfortunately, life was never a fairytale world.

My enemies had evolved to be far more effective killers than I was ever designed to combat and they were getting stronger by the minute. My supply of ADAM would be limited due to the method by which I was harvesting it. The Little Sisters were physically limited in their capability to produce the substance and, according to the information that Eleanor was sharing via our bond, former Gatherers such as Jennifer could not produce ADAM that would not be lethal to anyone other than their bonded Protector.

Sofia and Alexander had tried to use the Big Sisters to produce ADAM when the supply of girls that could be transformed into Little Sisters began to reach a critically low level in the city. However, they had found that the introduction of large quantities of estrogen and other growth hormones that naturally occurred during the part of a human being's life-cycle known as puberty had caused drastic and unexpected changes to the chemical makeup of the ADAM produced in their bodies. The changes in the ADAM rendered it literally corrosive to everyone except the young woman whose body produced it. Alexander had even gone so far as to liken the effects of introducing the Big Sister's ADAM into a human host to that of pumping pure industrial-grade hydrofluoric acid directly into the host's blood stream.

Normally, ADAM behaved as if it was a benign cancer. However, the Big Sister's ADAM behaved as if was a hyper aggressive cancer that rapidly consumed the cells of the host. For a while, Alexander and what remained of the partially sane population of scientists in Rapture believed that the only exception were the cells of the Big Sisters. That all changed the day that they found Subject Alpha and Emily in their hideout. Emily had been sharing her ADAM with her Alpha Series Big Daddy and my brother had suffered no ill effects from it.

Upon involuntary testing, Alexander and his team discovered that the unique physiological Father-Daughter Bond of the Alpha Series Protectors and Gatherers had been far stronger than previously believed. Just as the Gatherer had been imprinted upon the Protector to ensure that he would never leave her side, the Protector had, in turn, been imprinted upon the Gatherer. Her very body itself was bonded to her protector. When Emily underwent the changes during puberty, her ADAM did not become anymore corrosive to Alpha than it did to herself. Whether or not this was true for all Alpha Series Big Daddies was unknown due to the fact that Sofia had ordered for all of the remaining activate pairs to be hunted down so that she could eliminate the last remaining obstacle to her control over the city.

With only the ADAM from the Little Sisters that I would encounter on my journey to Fontaine Futuristics at my disposal, I would have to be strategic with my choices. One-on-one, there was not a Splicer in all of Rapture that I could not kill. One-on-one, not even an Elite Big Sister was a match for the monster Subject Delta. However, the use of raw power alone to win battles was a path of inevitable evolutionary failure. Instead of enhancing my offensive power, I would need to remain steadfast to the ideals by which we in the Alpha Series Protectors held upheld above all else. Versatility; adaptability; loyalty to no one except ourselves; death before dishonor, these were what defined us and they were the reason for our superiority over the Mass Production Models and the Splicers.

A memory flashed before my Mind's Eye. U.S.S. _Torrey _was anchored inside the hidden cove and we had completed our preparations for our solo assault on the Japanese Mainland. We were all in the galley (the cafeteria). Silently, we all stared at the highly questionable food before us as we all individually lamented on our impending demise. Ol' _Torrey_ had survived the impossible before but this time we had an uneasy feeling that these would be our last few hours on this Earth. We knew that Command would never allow us to survive the war and it finally seemed as if they had found a way to be rid of us once and for all.

Suddenly, our captain walked into the room. The weathered veteran was wearing a standard enlisted sailor's uniform instead of his officer's attire as yet another way to insult what he called the "New Generation Navy that is more concerned about ranks and paperwork than their jobs as soldiers". We all simultaneously stood and then saluted our great leader. Captain McConnel walked to the center of the Mess Hall and then said, "At ease men. Let me ask you all a question."

We changed our postures so that we were standing at ease. Then, the old seadog asked us, "What defines power? Is it wealth? Is it influence? Is it steel and fire?" He looked around for a moment expectantly before he asked, "Anyone?"

When no one said anything, I spoke up by stating, "Power is defined by strength, sir."

McConnel pointed at me as he replied, "Strength...yes, yes, yes. That's good." Looking around at everyone in the room, he continued, "A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Power is no exception. We are about to rush straight into the lion's den. The Japs are superior to us in both numbers and equipment. However, that is why we will survive."

A wave of confusion rolled through us as we tried to understand what he meant by that. Our leader finally smiled and then explained, "None of our superiors believed that we would ever get within eye sight of the Japanese Mainland. Yet, here we are. You see? Tojo's chain is massive but it has a weak link. Our chain is small but it is indivisible. Our greatest enemy now is ourselves. Steel yourselves, men. Remain strong and there is no way that we can fail."

The memory faded away and I was left with my thoughts. McConnel was not exactly all there when it came to his mind. However, he did have a good point. No matter how strong I became, it would be my weaknesses that would be my downfall if I did nothing about them.

While I was a formidable juggernaut in a typical fight, there were flaws in my design. Among several issues was that my massive frame and suit limited my flexibility. While it was not inherently enough to affect me in combat, it could easily prove to be my Achilles's Heel if it was exploited by a group of enemies or one perceptive foe. As it had been demonstrated mere minutes prior, in the event that one or more Splicers managed to get past my strong offensive front, my options to dislodge them were extremely limited. Before upgrading my Plasmid arsenal, I would need to find efficient solutions to problems like that in order to ensure my place as the Apex Predator of Rapture.

Looking through the available Gene Tonics, I saw a possible solution. An otherwise unassuming Tonic named Electric Flesh could potentially be the difference between life and death if it was combined with a self-inflicted blast of the high-powered Electro Bolt Plasmid. As I recalled for my days as Fontaine Futuristics's involuntary guinea pig, Electric Flesh altered the skin cells of the individual by embedding a sequence in their DNA that caused the cells to produce a kind of organic armor that had a detectable electrical charge along its exterior. The organic armor resembled a kind of thin layer of naturally occurring oil on the surface of the individual's skin and the small electrical current could be seen occasionally arcing across his or her body.

The tonic had the effect of not only neutralizing any electric current that came into contact with the individual's body, it also had the effect of boosting the output of Plasmids such as Electro Bolt. I still had several weaknesses to address but, for now, the addition of increased Health and EVE combined with Electric Flesh would certainly put me on the evolutionary path that was worthy of my brethren's legacy of being the true Big Daddies of Rapture. After selecting the three upgrades with the tip of my drill and enduring the few moments of discomfort, I removed my arm from the slot in the Gatherer's Garden.

I remembered that there was a Circus of Values Vending Machine just up the street to my left and began to make my way towards it. My suit had been designed with extended combat in mind so it was built to maximize the longevity of stored Health and EVE resources. However, Jennifer had reported that the Splicers had transformed The Pearl into a death trap for Protectors so I would need as many resources as possible when I made my way through it.

As I made my way down the war-torn street, I heard Jennifer engaging what was most likely a Brute Splicer judging by the deep voice and sounds of a large mass moving around. I mentally sighed with a sad tone as I thought of the tragic young woman that had once looked at the world around her with an admittedly odd but still bright-eyed and hopeful manner. Her recent dialogue with Subject Delta had indicated that she was in a far worse place than I had originally thought. I would need to keep a close eye on her to prevent her from acting upon her threats.

Suddenly, as I reached the vending machine, Eleanor said through our bond, "_That tramp…if she gets near you I will snap her neck._"

Fighting to keep from losing my temper, I berated her, "_Damn it Eleanor, would you think with your mind instead of your hormones!_"

With a shocked tone, my daughter whimpered, "_F-father?_"

I continued, "_Listen, kid. If you want to ever want to survive on the surface, you need to learn how to think with your mind and look at those around you!_"

Now sounding much like the young girl that I had protected all those years ago, the beautiful young woman said timidly, "_She…she…but…she said…with my father._"

Irritated, I replied, "_No. She. Did. Not. That is what I meant by thinking with your mind and not your hormones. As smart as you are, Eleanor, you can be very oblivious and ignorant sometimes._"

Eleanor admitted, "_I…I don't understand._"

I explained, "_Jennifer has a death wish. She is so lost without her Protector that she wants to die in order to be reunited with him. That is why Sofia had her become an assassin. If it is obvious to me, then Sofia surely knows about Jennifer's desire to die. That makes her a perfect killer…i.e. assassin. However, what she is and her body's hardwired instincts for self-preservation have prevented her from finding an enemy that is capable of killing her. That is…except one…Subject Delta. Understand now, kid? She wasn't flirting…she was asking for death._"

Eleanor was silent for a moment before she replied, "_I'm sorry, Father. I have just missed you so much…to think that I overlooked signs of my sister's suicidal desires…I will try to be more rational and objective in the future._"

As I purchased several First Aid Kits and EVE Hypos from the vending machine, I remarked, "_That's my girl. Don't worry, it is easy to overlook such harsh realities even if they are right in front of you. As much as you hate her, your mother did try to teach you how to recognize the weaknesses of others even if they are not consciously aware of them. You need to utilize that knowledge if you want to succeed on the surface._"

My daughter replied, "_I will, Johnny. When I fall, you will be there to grab me and help pull me back up._"

A wave of silent dread washed over me briefly before I replied, "_Yeah kid…sure I will._"

Eleanor then asked me, "_What do we do about Jennifer?_"

I asked in response, "_You tell me, El. What can we do considering the circumstances?_"

After a moment, she replied, "_Well, we cannot directly confront her without risking opening ourselves up to attack from Splicers nor do we have the time for an intervention. Considering that we would be causing her great emotional distress, it would probably be best for everyone if we simply monitor her without interfering unless it is absolutely necessary. She is a strong-willed individual and she may not even be willing to allow herself to be saved so monitoring is the only course of action that we can take for now. Ultimately, it is going to be her decision whether or not she can be saved._"

Sensing her falling heart, I assured the blossoming beauty, "_It is not your fault, kid. That is one lesson that you need to learn. Somethings cannot be saved…some people too. Ultimately, it is their decision. All you can do is your best to help them. However, some people just cannot be saved._"

Having resupplied, I began to cut through the path between the building to my left and the abandoned restaurant and bar to my right. Just ahead was the entrance to The Pink Pearl and I saw the slain Brute Splicer lying in a bloody heap on the ground to the right of it. As I neared it, my built-in radio crackled to life before Tenenbaum addressed me with her thick accent, "Herr Delta, can you hear me?" I let out a deep grunt in response. She continued, "I have heard about the continued kindness that you have shown the Little Ones. The path of the righteous is not always easy, yes? Eleanor and I have been working together to prepare several gifts for you to demonstrate our appreciation. Subject Sigma's work continues and we will require more time. Please, continue putting pressure on Sofia Lamb."

My radio deactivated and I found myself standing before the entrance to the brothel. To my left, I noticed another strange mural that must have been created by Father Wales. It consisted of a Little Sister's Gathering Tool that was locked inside of a long glass case that was sitting on top of a steel stand that was against the far wall. Around the stand were multiple lit white candles that had been burning for quite some time. Above the case was a large painting of a man that had his back to the viewer.

The man was clad in a Rapture Surgeon's suit. The "ЯR" in a white circle that was also present on the back of a Rapture Security Officer's uniform was visible on the back of the surgeon's uniform. The man had his arms raised up and out to the side in the air in what appeared to be a declaration of triumph over the grisly sight of three horribly disfigured women suspended in the air before him from where they were chained to what resembled the cross-shaped surgical tables that members of the Alpha Series were converted into Protectors on. While I could not see the man's face, the red color of his surgeon's suit made it clear who was being depicted.

Dr. Steinman a.k.a. The Mad Surgeon of Rapture was infamous for being just as crazy as he was gifted when it came to his "field". He was a regular Michelangelo who was either a babbling madman or the greatest mind that the world had ever seen depending upon who you asked. What the connection between this painting and the others that I had encountered so far was escaped my understanding. Perhaps the meaning behind them would be revealed to me as I continued further into the ruins of Siren Alley.

Jennifer jumped down from where she had been waiting for us on the second floor walkway of the buildings behind me to be standing to my right. As I mentally prepared myself for the coming struggle, I heard Jennifer ask my temporary charge, "Is something wrong, Sister Eleanor?"

The Eleanor-controlled Little Sister replied with her edged tone, "No, why do you ask?"

Jennifer explained, "You were looking at me with concern."

With noticeable guilt present in her voice, my bonded partner said, "I am sorry that I snapped at you, Sister Jennifer."

The heavily-armored young woman assured her, "It is quite alright. It was wrong of me to make such a request to my favorite Sister's Protector. I assure you that I do not desire to come between you and Papa Delta or cause either of you any further pain. I was temporarily overwhelmed by my memories of Papa Lambda. It will not happen again."

With time running short, I forced myself through the pair of ornate wooden doors and entered the building. I was met by the sight of a fallen Rumbler Mass Production Model lying against the wall of the island that stood between the entrance and the main lobby of The Pearl. The Tin Man's massive frame had multiple harpoon bolts sticking in it and there were also multiple harpoons sticking in the wall around it. In addition, there was a significant amount of bullet holes riddling the blood-soaked wall as well. Finally, there was a corpse of a woman that had been pinned to the wall by the numerous bolts that had penetrated her body.

At the feet of the fallen Rumbler was a harpoon gun. Upon examination, I found that the weapon was nonfunctional. The frame was cracked to the point of structural failure and the spring-loaded mechanism that fired the massive bolts was beyond the point of being restored as its worn out parts would put the operator in jeopardy if someone tried to use the weapon. However, the sight of the spring-loaded mechanism gave me an idea for a possible modification to my already highly-customized drill that I would have to attempt to build if I could locate the parts that I would need to make it work.

Near the corpse of the Mass Production Model, I saw a dirty brown canvas bag with a shoulder strap. The flap that normally contained the contents of the bag was up and I could see three or four metal balls the size of volleyballs. After a moment, I was able to identify them as inactive Mini-Turrets. However, they would be useless unless someone had a controller unit. Subject Alpha moved to be standing to my left. Then, to my surprise, he slowly laid his highly modified Prototype Rivet Gun up against the wall before us.

Intrigued, I silently watched as my brother slowly bent down onto his right knee before the Rumbler and then leaned in. The Alpha Series' most gifted and ruthless tactician then began to remove a small device from the top of the fallen Tin Man's left hand. It was no bigger than a memo pad and had two curved metal wires that formed a hollow horseshoe shape above the device's small cigarette package-shaped base.

After removing the strange device from the corpse of the Rumbler, Alpha held it up in the air before him and appeared to be examining it to determine if it was still functional. The device was indeed in working condition and my brother began to attach it to the top of his left gauntlet-encased left hand. Then, upon securing the small object to his hand, he gathered the dirty canvas bag and stood back upright. He secured the bag down by the right side of his waist by placing the strap over his left shoulder and underneath the ropes that held the heavy diving weight to his chest. It would have been more efficient if he had placed the bag so that it was by the left side of his waist but then he would not have been able to easily access his diving knife.

Upon retrieving his Rivet Gun, he picked up one of the Mini-Turrets and held it in my direction. Then, he commented with his Alpha Series voice, "I have always wanted one of these. The controller unit is so fragile that it rarely survives the killing of the Rumbler. The turrets are useless without the signal transmitted from the unit. Not only can this little beauty control the turrets but the controller unit is also a short-wave transmitter and scanner. I can scan and then hijack any radio signal in Rapture. Will not do anything to help us with the Security Systems because they are all either self-contained or are hardwired. However, I can hijack Lamb's remote signal jammer and then turn it against her. We and anyone who contacts us via our built-in radios will effectively be ghosts to her."

As impressed as I was by the ingenuity of my loyal brother, I still taunted him, "Never realized you were one of those college-educated egghead types."

He let out a series of grunt-like laughs as he placed the turret back into the bag before he replied, "Who me? No, sir. The university suits design things but guys like us know how to build them."

I let out my own series of grunt-like laughs before I began to make my way around the left path to the main lobby. Along the wall to my left was a Gene Bank, several harpoon bolts, and the body of a man that had been pinned to the wall by the multiple bolts penetrating his corpse. I continued forward to find an advertisement for Eve's Garden at Fort Frolic along the wall to my right. The scandalous red-haired woman could still be seen holding the large red apple that had the words "Come bite the Apple!" along its surface. As I made my further down the left path, I saw a water-damaged advertisement for the ReJuvena Skin-Tightening Tonic along the left wall. The advertisement had been so badly damaged that only the ghostly image of a woman and the large text could still be seen along its moldy surface.

At my feet, cracks in the surrounding plumbing had allowed a river of water to flow along the once pristine ornate wooden flooring. An invading mass of vines had begun to take root as a result of the supply of water. Considering that most plant species could not stand salt water, the source must have been fresh. The vines were similar to the ones that I had seen in Arcadia all those years ago. I was not aware of any cross contamination between the sections of Rapture but these vines seemed to be evidence in support of that notion. Of course, the plants could have had a local source that I had yet to encounter.

Finally, I reached the entrance to the main lobby. I grimaced beneath my copper and glass façade as I saw the unimaginable deterioration that had taken place in the building. From my vantage point, I could see that all three floors were on the verge of structural collapse. In the main lobby alone almost all of the supporting columns had fallen to the ground. One of the key metal support beams had fallen to embed itself into the wooden floor in a vertical position. Multiple fires were either visible or their telltale crackling could be heard from the interior of the floors. Several of the walkways of the upper floors had collapsed and had been replaced by haphazardly constructed bridges of pieces of boards.

It was on the haphazardly constructed walkway directly before me on the second floor that I saw what was once a young man dressed in casual street clothes and a young woman that was clad in a torn, mildew-covered lacy red dress that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Somewhat ironically, the two Splicers were standing in front of an advertisement for Ryan's mistress Jasmine Jolene.

Upon entering the lobby, I heard the female denizen address her potential male customer, "Well hey there handsome."

The man responded, "Hey there…umm…how much?"

The working girl replied, "Twenty bills and I'm all yours, sailor."

With a dead pan tone, the man said, "Oh great…twenty bucks…for anything I want, right?"

The prostitute giggled and then answered, "Anything is fine by me, sugar. So long as…" Her voice became a whisper and I could not make out the rest of what she said.

Though twenty bucks was cheap considering that a single First Aid Kit was twenty eight dollars at a vending machine, the potential John tried to lower the price by asking, "Can we negotiate the price…huh?"

Before the working girl could reply, Alpha threw one of his Mini-Turrets towards them. The volleyball-sized metal object smashed into the wall just behind the female Splicer, causing them both to cry out in surprise and shock, and then fell to the ground. The sound of the turret's mechanisms springing into action filled the air for a few seconds. Then, as the two denizens were still bringing their modified Thompson Submachine Guns to bear, the turret began to pelt them with small caliber rounds.

The rapid fire of the turret's interior firearm quickly cut down the prostitute as dozens of the small caliber rounds ripped into her unarmored frame within seconds. Without having ever even fired a round from her Thompson, the bloodied, bullet-riddled Splicer collapsed backwards onto the floor. Meanwhile, the man had managed to open fire upon the turret and several of the .50 caliber rounds had hit home but the robust little automaton continued to fire its entire supply of ammunition into him. Finally, second later, the bullet-riddled male Splicer cried out and turned towards us before, in one final bid for salvation, he hurled himself over the side of the walkway.

To his credit, had it not been for a nearly invisible piece of metal rebar that was sticking out of a piece of concrete on the floor of the main lobby, the badly wounded denizen would have likely survived the landing. However, lady luck was just not on his side and, when his right clubbed foot made contact with the water-covered wooden floor, he slipped and fell forward to have his skull impaled by the piece of rebar. I watched with morbid curiosity as the body continued to twitch for a few moments until it finally ceased movement altogether.

A few seconds later, the Mini-Turret's self-destruction charge activated and it destroyed itself in one final bid to assist its master in a cloud of fire and shrapnel. The turrets were essentially wind-up toys that only had enough stored up energy to operate for a minute at the most until its internal gears ceased movement. When the gears stopped moving, the on-board explosive charge was activated and the entire device was destroyed.

Moving into the center of the lobby, I remarked, "Successful test."

Behind me, my heavily-armored brother stated in agreement, "Yes, sir."

From where she was riding on her throne on my back, the beautiful, seemingly innocent princess said, "They say that unsafe sex can be a potential threat to your health but I doubt that this is what they had in mind."

Realizing that I had taken my daughter into a brothel, I let out a self-loathing groan as a wave of shame rolled through my mind. I began to consider exiting The Pearl and taking my temporary charge to a nearby Little Sister Vent before returning. However, sensing my train of thought, the Eleanor-controlled young girl informed me, "I watched my father's head explode when I was a child. Do you really think that there is any innocence left in my heart to save?"

There was little point in trying to argue with her and she did have a valid argument. After watching her Big Daddy Protector die in an unimaginably brutal and violent manner right before her eyes when she was but a mere child, any innocence that Rapture had not yet taken from her before that moment was gone forever. Considering what she would encounter on the surface, it was probably for the best that she experienced the human cost of the World's Oldest Profession first hand while in the company of her Protector. After all, it was still my job to prepare her for the world. I needed for her to understand that only fools believed in the word "evil". Evil was just a word that masked the true identity of the cost of humanity's less noble desires and traits.

Turning to my left, I began to make my way to the flight of stairs that allowed access to the second floor. However, I had only taken four steps before I was suddenly overcome with the instinctive feeling of being watched. I wheeled around just in time to see two strange individuals looking down at me from the third floor. In the brief amount of time that I saw them, I could make out that it was a man and a woman that were similar, practically twins, in appearance. They were wearing identical attire of what looking like an early twentieth century light tan suit with darker pants/an ankle-length skirt, a golden or light brown vest, and a white collared shirt with a green tie. Their expressions were both of mild interest as if they were observing a scientific experiment rather than a life or death struggle for survival.

Something about them caused a feeling of nostalgia to stir within me. I was certain that I had never seen the strange pair before but at the same time I could not help but feel as if I knew them somehow. However, I blinked once and they were gone. Standing next to me, Subject Alpha inquired, "What is it, sir?"

Shaking off the experience, I turned back as I replied with the language that those of us in the Alpha Series had created, "Nothing. I thought that I saw something but I was mistaken."

I began to make my way to the stairs. As I did, Eleanor informed me through our bond, "_I saw them too, Father. It is not the first time that I have seen them either._"

Intrigued but also concerned about what malicious intent the pair might have, I asked with my gruff human voice, "_Who are they?_"

My beautiful daughter admitted, "_I do not know but I do not believe that they are from our universe. Like that lying bitch, I think that they too are spread across the fabric of time and space._"

I remarked, "_I stopped questioning and trying to understand things a long time ago. As long as they keep their distance and do not try to interfere, I do not care who or what they are._"

Eleanor purred with a teasing tone before she said, "_Oh my…Daddy is so violent. Do you really think that even Subject Delta could kill something like them?_"

I assured her, "_If it bleeds, Delta can kill it._"

By then, I had reached the stairs. The cracked wooden panels looked questionable but I had no choice but to ascend them. As I did, my radio powered to life and then, moments later, Sinclair addressed me with his southern accented voice, "The Pearl was among the ritziest lodgings in Rapture. But durin' the war, the residents put themselves up for sale…Daniel's office is on the top floor, I believe."

My radio had no sooner deactivated before I heard insane laughter and the telltale sound of sharp metal hooks being driven into wooden panels. Before I could react, a Spider Splicer scurried across the ceiling from right to left and then disappeared into the darkness of the area to the left of the second floor landing. A heavy metal security gate prevented me from being able to give chase so I had no choice but to continue forward.

Turning to my right, I exited the stairwell and entered the second floor. The clam shell lamps mounted to the walls flickered almost continuously as if they were seconds away from giving out altogether. Therefore, the real source of light came from the various open fires that had somehow not engulfed the entire structure yet. The green with red diamond-patterned carpet that had once graced the floor of the housing complex had been worn down into near nonexistence and various pieces of destroyed furniture, including a full-sized desk, dotted the area. From my vantage point, there was a set of double doors directly to my left, a path that lead to the left just beyond them, the walkway where the prostitute and the male Splicer had been standing beyond it that lead to the far end of the second floor where there was another path that lead to the left, and a path that went to the right where the next flight of stairs would be just before the walkway.

I had no sooner exited the stairwell before another working girl wielding a Thompson Submachine Gun appeared as she casually walked around the corner of the first path that led to the left. Upon seeing me, she cried out with a disgusted tone, "Send your daughter home, freak!" As she opened fire with her modified weapon, I revved up my industrial-grade drill and began to charge towards her as the electromagnetic dynamo upgrade deflected the incoming rounds back towards her. I easily smashed through and trampled the furniture that got in my way as I quickly closed the distance between us. Then, filling the air with the sickening sound of cracking bones, I slammed into her unarmored frame.

The raw power behind the impact was enough to send the Splicer flying back through the air about a foot. Continuing my charge, I trampled the denizen beneath my heavy weighted diving boots. After running a few more steps, I stopped and then turned back with my drill deactivated. The denizen was trying to crawl away but Jennifer simply walked up and then stomped on the back of the woman's head with the armored sole of her boot-clad right foot.

The sound of a Browning Light Machine Gun filled the air and I looked beyond the armored goddess to see Alpha firing a Hack Rivet at a sentry that was out of my line of sight down the first path. With Daniel's exact location within the brothel unknown, I decided that it would be worth trying to flush him out before storming the office on the top floor. I made my way back to the set of double doors. As I did so, I became aware of a woman singing "Ten Cents a Dance" somewhere either on the second or third floor.

As I neared my brother, I instructed him, "Guard this location. Make sure no one gets past you."

Unable to nod, the Protector gave a slight change in posture before replying, "Yes, sir."

I then walked past him and continued until I was facing the doors. Despite the rundown appearance of the brothel, the doors slid open to reveal what looked like a regular living room. Despite the lack of furnishing save for a small desk with a television set on top of it and a piano and refrigerator unit along the far back wall and the hole in the right wall, there was an air of normalcy about the apartment. Even the still functional television set suggested that there was nothing sinister happening within the residence's walls. However, I knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving.

I made my way into the apartment and soon found an eerily long hallway between the television set and the piano. The hallway continued back to another set of double doors. I instructed my accompanying Elite Big Sister, "Stay here and watch my back, Jen."

The armored assassin replied, "Yes, Papa Delta."

My caution was rewarded after only a few steps down the long hallway when the sounds of a Spider Splicer's insane laughter and hooks came from behind me. The shadow of the assailant appeared before me due to the light source behind me but I continued forward undeterred as the shadow of a far more dangerous predator consumed that of the Spider Splicer. Ignoring the numerous books that were scattered about on the floor, I continued towards the doors.

When I reached them, the automated doors slid open to reveal a bedroom. There were two Splicers, one man and one woman, in the room itself and then there was a third Splicer, a man, who was looking into the room from an opening in the wall which revealed a side room that was accessible via a set of doors. Upon seeing me, the third individual bolted for the doors and was gone before I could stop him. However, the remaining two denizens were trapped.

The man fired his Thompson Submachine Gun at me while the red dress and ripped black fish net stocking-clad woman began to cower in the far right corner. I revved up my drill while I simultaneously willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my left hand into the male denizen. He cried out in agony as the high powered electrical arcs surrounded his frame until I rushed forward and neutralized him with a powerful thrust of my drill into the side of his skull.

As he crumpled to the ground in a heap, the sound of sections of metal chain hitting the wooden floor drew my attention back to the woman. It would have taken a much colder soul than mine to have not felt sympathy for the Splicer as I saw her desperately trying to run past me only to be stopped by the link of chain and shackles that held her to bed against her will. I powered down my drill as she began to frantically claw at both the shackle around her right ankle and the flesh of her lower right leg as if she was an animal trying to chew off its own trapped leg.

Finally, as I towered before her, the unarmed working girl ceased her desperate attempts to save her life and looked up at me with an expression of silent acceptance of her fate. I let out a series of grunts that were loud enough for my other companions to hear them and Eleanor translated for the Splicer, "You get a ten second head start. Run and never come back." Before the woman could reply, I swung my drill into a link of the chain that was near her ankle. The strength of my attack broke the metal link, freeing the Splicer. Not needing to be told twice, the freed working girl bolted for the exit of the apartment without ever looking back.

Looking back at the bed, I noticed that the man had also been chained to the heavy metal frame of the piece of furniture. The chains had been just long enough to allow the two individuals to reach the metal soup pot that was filled with slimy water, the frying pan that was filled with maggot infested food, the jukebox, and cruelly close to the unlocked doors.

Eleanor muttered in disgust, "They treat the animals in zoos with more respect."

I explained, "Because, there, the entertainment value comes from seeing the animals happy and healthy. Here, the entertainment value comes from making yourself happy while seeing the animals. Besides, zoo animals are very expensive and hard to come by so there is more incentive to take care of them."

I paused and then continued, "This is how this business works, kid. You are either the exploited or you are the exploiter. Death is usually the only way out but that choice is usually taken away from the exploited by the exploiter. Everything is taken away by the exploiter. The exploited are the exploiter's property…nothing more. Male…female…young…old…upper class…lower class…black…white...all means nothing in this business. You are either the spider or you are the fly. You either eat or you are consumed. It is the world's oldest profession and all it has been and all it ever will be is simple exploitation and pain."

After a moment, my daughter replied, "I see…thank you, Father. I will remember this."

With Daniel nowhere to be found, I exited the room and made my way back towards the exit. Upon exiting the apartment with Jennifer following close behind me, I found Alpha still ensuring that no one escaped the second floor. As I approached, my brother informed me, "Nothing to report, sir."

I replied, "Copy that. Continue holding this location."

The Alpha Series Big Daddy responded, "Yes, sir. No one will get past me."

Moving past him, I began to make my way down the first path that went to the left. At the end of the hallway, I saw the hacked Sentry Turret. Just to the left of the turret, I saw a yellow hydraulic jack that had been placed there to keep the ceiling from collapsing. However, upon reaching the far end of the hallway, I found that the jack had been a futile gesture because there was an enormous hole in the ceiling just to the right of the turret. Water trickled down through the hole and I could see the far back wall of the third floor through it. Just past the turret, I saw an exterior window that allowed a scenic view of the surrounding seafloor including coral, kelp, and several species of fish.

The sound of a man muttering himself drew my attention to the set of doors of an apartment that was just beyond the turret. With my drill at the ready, I approached the doors. When they opened, I found a badly damaged apartment that was barely the size of half a tennis court. Just beyond the entrance was a ruined couch where the corpse of a young woman with dirty black hair was slouched forward. Her arms were frozen stiff from rigor mortis and their positions suggested that she had been injecting herself with a Hypo. However, the object itself was missing and I realized, with a sickening feeling, that another individual had come along and taken it from the corpse. The extent that addicts were willing to go for a fix was often just as fascinating as it was revolting.

As I entered the small apartment, I noted the small bathroom to my left. The sound of footsteps drew my attention to my right where there was a sharp turn to what was likely the bedroom. Seconds later, a middle-aged man dressed in a dirty, torn business suit appeared with a disturbing satisfied expression on his horribly disfigured face. The man turned and saw me. The brief shock quickly disappeared as he demanded with an angry tone in reference to the Little Sister, "Hand her over!" The denizen had barely raised his modified pump-action shotgun before I had grabbed him by his neck with my left hand and then crushed his neck vertebrae. I dropped the corpse onto the floor and then inspected the bedroom area of the apartment.

There, I found the corpse of a man and a woman. The man was on the floor slumped against the foot of the bed and the woman was sprawled out in a prostrate position on the bed. Several bottles of cheap beer were on the floor around the bed and the male corpse had a partially emptied EVE Hypo stuck into his upper right thigh. Meanwhile, the female corpse had a fully emptied EVE Hypo stuck into her right arm.

The dried foam around her lips and her bloodshot eyes told the story all too well. Much like autoerotic asphyxiation, the dangerous act of splicing during intercourse caused a heightened state of sensitivity when the individual reached release but often provided to be lethal. On this occasion, the woman had overdosed. However, this had not been an accident judging by the bruising around her wrists where her assailant had held her down and how deep the Hypo had been driven into her arm, indicating that there had been absolutely no hesitation and a brutal amount of strength behind the thrust.

The woman was the only individual that had been chained to the bed and unless the assailant had an extra arm, the man at the foot of the bed was the killer's accomplice. Upon closer examination, I noted that the contents of the partially emptied Hypo were spilling out of the insertion site, which indicated that the man had been dead when the Hypo had been inserted into him. Why the other individual had tried to make it look as if the man was involved in the "accident" was beyond the scope of what I could observe in the room.

As for the disgusting expression of satisfaction of the Splicer that had just left the room, I noted that there a fresh pool of fluid on the back of the female corpse. Granted, due to the ravaging effects of years of ADAM withdrawal, there was a minute amount of fluid but there was still enough to make it clear what had occurred. With nothing else to see in the apartment, I began to exit the residence.

As I reached the exit, I suddenly heard Subject Alpha call out, "Sir! I have a visual on Daniel!"

Jennifer and I rushed out of the apartment and made it to the corner of the hallway just in time to catch a glimpse of a man running back up the flight of stairs that went to the third floor. As I charged forward as fast as my massive frame would allow, I grunted, "Alpha, remain where you are and ensure that Daniel does not get past you in case he doubles back! Jennifer, try to cut him off!"

My two companions gave their respective confirmation. Within seconds, I had reached the second floor landing of the stairs. Above me on the third floor landing, I saw a man wearing a dirty yellow business suit with torn red pants and a bent top hat. Upon seeing me, the Splicer called out with an Irish accent, "Are you Simon?" He then tossed two Molotov Cocktails down onto the stairs as two electrified harpoon bolts appeared on the landing before him. He taunted, "Here's me peace offerin'!"

Weathering the assault, I ascended the stairs in pursuit of the wayward Wale brother. Daniel ran further into the third floor as he cried out, "Welcome to The Pink fucking Pearl, sweetheart!" Unaffected by the electrified harpoon bolts due to the recent addition of Electric Flesh, I pushed past them and continued to chase the Splicer. I exited the stairwell and turned to my right just in time to see a Spider Splicer flying towards me.

I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my gloved left hand and then powered up my drill. As the temporarily paralyzed denizen was impaled by the whirling bit of my drill, I reached up and grabbed him by his scrawny neck. Before the man could even recover, I snapped the thin column of vertebrae and then ripped my still whirling drill out of him. I did not have time to waste on such distractions so I unceremoniously threw the twitching corpse into the nearby wall and then continued forward in pursuit of Daniel.

I turned the corner to find a seemingly deserted hallway. Most of the apartments had been sealed up and there was an abandoned refrigerator to the right of the path. Further down the hallway, I saw Jennifer engaging a Spider Splicer on the walkway. As I made my way towards her, I heard another one in the ventilation duct above my head. I had taken a few more steps before the denizen jumped down out of the open duct and landed on the floor before me.

The Spider Splicer had barely recovered from the landing before I jumped on top of him. The sound of cracking bones filled the air as the man was crushed by the weight of my frame. I withdrew from the Splicer before, letting out an irritated roar, I picked him up by his skinny neck and then threw him into the nearby collapsed metal support beam. The force of the impact jarred the metal beam loose and, letting out a loud screech, it toppled over to land against the wall above the entrance of the main lobby in a cloud of dust and flying concrete.

By then, Jennifer had dispatched her assailant and she informed me, "Daniel ran back into his office." The armored goddess and I gave chase and ran towards the end of the hallway. When we turned the corner, we found the entrance to his office. It was guarded by two female Splicers wielding Thompson Submachine Guns and a Security Camera that was mounted to the far wall. As she jumped onto the wall to my left, the Elite Big Sister informed me, "I'll deal with them. Go get Daniel or find the code." I rushed towards the doors while the young woman launched herself towards the Splicers and Security Camera.

Upon entering the apartment, I found that it was on the verge of collapsing. The floor was cracked in multiple places and the window mounted into the wall facing the entrance was compromised and ocean water was spraying into the room. A destroyed piano had been placed up against the window to stem the tide of the water but it was proving to be only partially successful in holding back the invading liquid. A large section of wall paneling was missing from the left wall and the corpse of a Spider Splicer was lying prostrate on the floor.

As I continued forward, I found a side path that went to the right. I entered the hallway to find that it led to the bedroom at the far end of the apartment. Daniel was standing there, seemingly cornered. However, as I approached, he yelled, "My brother sends you now?! A metal freakin' handy man?!" The wayward Wale brother then jumped down through yet another hole in the floor as two more electrified harpoon bolts appeared in the hallway to impede my advance. I pushed past the flimsy obstacles and entered the bedroom.

The bed itself was a destroyed, burned out frame that had been pushed up against the right wall. Upon realizing that I had not found what could actually be referred to as an "office", I turned to my left and found what I was looking for in a room just to the left of the bedroom. As I made my way towards the room, I heard yet another Spider Splicer and turned back to see it jumping out of the hole in the floor.

Growing tired of the constant interference, I growled and then electrocuted the denizen with my Electro Bolt Plasmid. Before the horribly twisted man could recover, I charged forward and slammed into his frame. The Splicer's death rattle briefly filled the air as he fell back into the hole. With the last annoyance dealt with, I turned back and then entered the office.

Upon entering the room, I found a desk covered with empty whiskey and beer bottles to the right with a locked wall safe behind it. Along the other walls were racks of unopened bottles of whiskey, wine, and beer. I stood in the center of the office and glanced around. Simon had mentioned leaving a gift to his brother in his office so there had to be a clue in the room that would give some hint about the code that would allow access into the other area of Siren Alley.

My frustration grew as I initially failed to see anything out of the ordinary. I ripped the door of the safe off its hinges and then tossed it aside. However, after rummaging through the safe's contents, I again failed to find anything that seemed to yield some kind of clue about the code. Given the dialogue from Daniel, I doubted that he would have considered Simon's offer and, thus, would not have bothered to keep the clue on his person. The code had to be in the room somewhere.

What would Simon have left for his brother? What would some religious fanatic have that could possibly entice or even catch the attention of some alcoholic low-life? Suddenly, it dawned on me. Looking back at the desk, I finally found what I was looking for. There among the empty bottles was one that did not belong. It was a sacramental wine bottle that had not been opened. Upon closer examination, I saw that there was a note attached to the neck of the bottle.

With as much care as I could manage with my massive left hand, I picked up the bottle and then lifted it up to the little girl that was riding on my back. Eleanor giggled before taking the fragile object from my grasp. As I lowered my arm, I asked, "See anything that could be a clue, kid?"

Jennifer appeared in the doorway as the Little Sister read the note, "To the only man that I ever loved, the year of his blood shall be your salvation. Simon." Eleanor paused and then asked in confusion, "The year of his blood shall be your salvation? What does that mean?"

I admit that I was stumped for a moment. However, I soon realized how incredibly simple the clue was and asked, "What is the vintage date of the wine?"

After examining the bottle, Eleanor informed me, "1919. Why?"

I explained, "That is the code to the door." Turning towards the exit, I remarked, "Okay, we got what we came for. Let's get out of this dump before the whole thing collapses."

I began to exit the apartment but, dropping the bottle of wine onto the floor, my daughter inquired, "But, Father...what about Daniel?"

I replied, "What about him? He can rot for all I care."

The stubborn young woman countered, "What about the exploited? What about their pain? Are you really just going to look the other way? Is that the kind of man that you are?"

I stopped in mid-step. Then, after letting out a grunt-like sigh, I replied, "Fine. As you wish…" I turned and then jumped down through the hole in the floor to continue my pursuit of Daniel. Eleanor had a point. Two wrongs did not make a right. Those that inflicted pain upon others were guilty but those that witnessed said pain and did nothing were just as guilty as the perpetrators themselves. Rivers of blood did not solve a problem such as prostitution but they did give justice to the victims.


	24. Chapter 24: Faith and dreams

Ch. 24: Faith and dreams

* * *

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

I apologize for taking so long after my classes finished. I hope the wait was worth it! I tried really hard to deliver for you guys so I hope you like it ^_^

Anyway,

In this chapter, I tried to flush out one of the vague parts of the game that the player only sees very briefly in this area of Rapture. I think that it is an interesting topic considering that it shows a social issue type thing and I felt like it never got a big enough spotlight in the game or even in the novel so I tried to give it some in this chapter.

Sorry about the sappy part at the end. However, it is rather boring to always be mindlessly destroying and killing, which I plan on having a lot of especially towards the end of the story.

Right…so…enjoy ^_^

Read and review if you want :)

* * *

When I landed one floor below, my armored frame was enveloped by an enormous cloud of dust as I made contact with a pile of debris. I let out a low-pitched, rumbling grunt of irritation as I waited for the obscuring material to settle. The low light caused my helmet's built-in headlamp to activate but it only made it harder to see as the yellow light reflected off the tiny particles. When the dust finally settled, I found myself in a dark room that had walls covered by fading ornate wooden panels. I was in the far back left corner of the square room. To my right against the far wall, I saw several small, intact bookcases that still held multiple books within their interiors. Directly in front of me, I saw a Vita-Chamber advertisement poster that had fallen from its mount on the wall and was now cocked at an angle against the floor.

Through the dim yellow light of my aged headlamp, I saw the open entrance to a corridor that allowed access to the area beyond the room. I began to make my way towards it, noting several more bookcases that were against the right wall of the corridor as I did. I had just crossed the threshold of the entrance when I heard the telltale clicking of two or three sentry turrets that were less than thirty yards ahead in the darkness. I revved up my heavily-modified drill as I properly entered the corridor and, there against the far wall of another room that mirrored the one that I had been in moments prior, I saw two sentry turrets waiting for me. In addition, I also caught sight of a seemingly discarded vial of a Gene Tonic that was at the end of the short hallway between the two rooms.

My quarry had certainly not failed to make an interesting pursuit but, unfortunately for him, his trap posed little threat to me. It would take far more than just a pair of Browning M1919 Machine Guns to send me back to the dark void. With my drill's electromagnetic dyno generating its reflective energy field and thus rendering the interfering machines useless, I charged forward. I slammed into the left turret in a thunderous collision that sheered the turret housing off its base in a cloud of sparks and flying bits of metal. As the heavy mechanized weapon clattered against the wooden floor, I turned my attention to the last turret. With my drill's unique defensive modification still active, I charged forward once again. I slammed into the sentry with enough force to again sheer the housing off its base.

I powered down my drill and then turned to face behind me to attempt to locate the exit back out into the main area of the second floor. As I did, I caught sight of a Security Bot Shutdown switch that was mounted in the middle of the wall behind the now destroyed sentry turrets. The lever was not exposed, which indicated that our hacked security cameras did not currently have an unwary Splicer in one of their sights. When I turned to face in the direction that had been behind me, I found the wooden sliding double doors that allowed access back into the main area of the second floor.

However, remembering the Gene Tonic, I turned and made my way to the glowing blue vial. Using my Telekinesis Plasmid, I levitated the ornate container up before me until it was close enough for me to grab with my gloved left hand. I rotated the glowing object in the palm of my massive hand until I saw the label. The worn, almost unreadable raised metal letters identified the tonic as "Hacker's Delight 2".

Unlike a large majority of the Gene Tonics and Plasmids that had been introduced to the consumers of Rapture, Hacker's Delight was exclusively developed by Ryan Industries after the desperate tyrant had seized Fontaine Futuristics in a vain effort to stop what had already been set into motion. Most of the genetic wonder products of Rapture had been originally developed in the labs of Fontaine Futuristics and their production had been continued in copied forms by Ryan's scientists after their formulas had been stolen from the labs after the raid by Rapture Security teams. Due to his steadfast belief in a free market and his own arrogance, Ryan's company was caught off guard by Fontaine when his company introduced Plasmids and Gene Tonics. By the time that Ryan Industries began to try to compete in the Genetic Modification Market, they might as well have been a Mom and Pop Shop trying to take on a corporate giant that sold a beloved national icon.

I was only a Guinea pig for the products of Fontaine Futuristics. As such, I did not know nearly as much about the Gene Tonics of Ryan Industries, which manufactured the Hacker's Delight line. I was not particularly familiar with the tonic but, if I was recalling correctly, it rewarded the wielder with a small amount of physical healing and EVE restoration whenever she or he "hacked" a machine.

However, something was not right about this vial. My instincts were vindicated as I examined the round metal top where one inserted the needle point into the vial. Upon closer inspection, there were unmistakable signs of the use of welding around where the needle was inserted into the container. In addition, faintly visible around the stem of the vial cap was a thin line that also had signs of welding that someone had attempted to crudely polish away.

These observations allowed me to identify the vial as being filled with either a bootleg Hacker's Delight 2 or perhaps something else entirely. Having grown up in the South, I was familiar with the Midnight Runners and their White Lightning. The Prohibition Act had made these men millionaires overnight as their product went from a homemade treat to a highly sought after commodity. In a way, ADAM was very similar to alcohol in that almost everyone wanted it and some individuals were willing to do anything their next bottle. While ADAM and its products were in high demand in Rapture, it was very expensive and the competitive nature of the population drove some to turn to the city's seedy underworld to obtain more affordable but incredibly dangerous bootlegged Tonics and Plasmids.

I had encountered these unstable cocktails in my early encounters with Splicers. Back then, they were usually alone and their destroyed bodies were as brittle as glass. Naturally, these individuals were in no condition to fight a perfectly healthy and heavily armored Alpha Series Big Daddy. The Plasmids were barely a tenth as powerful as the commercial versions and would often damage the Splicer more than they did me.

I could still vividly recall an attack by a malnourished woman in Apollo Square. As a den of suffering and squalor, the makeshift quarantine area was frequented by Gathering Pairs as the residents continued to kill themselves or each other to survive behind the enormous barricades. However, even in Apollo Square, the Splicers were too disorganized and physically broken to be of any real threat. It was not until more able-bodied citizens joined their ranks and they were organized by Fontaine using his new persona "Atlas" that they became the dangerous wolf pack-style raiders that came to define Splicers.

On that particular occasion, Eleanor had been gathering from the corpse of a man that had been brutally bludgeoned to death and then let in the middle of the street. We had found him before the human vultures could scavenge the body for anything of value that the killer had not taken and, thus, they had been waiting from a safe distance on either end of the metal and glass tunnel. Already, my brothers and I had earned a fearsome reputation for our combination of cold brutality and the mental capacity that rendered it extremely difficult to outfox us. Unlike the Mass Production Models that could be easily tricked and ambushed, the crazed addicts had found that we still possessed most, if not all, of our mental faculties and thus we were far more formidable foes than the Tin Men. So, while there was the fallen bullet-riddled and scorched corpse of a Bouncer Mass Production mere feet away, the present Splicers dared not attempt an attack on us.

As I monitored the gathering armed scavengers with my glowing hellish red eye and my massive drill raised up while I occasionally revved up its gasoline-powered motor in a threatening manner, my instincts drew my attention to one individual in particular. The incredibly thin woman was wearing little more than rags as she swayed back and forth in the crowd. Her sunken eyes were devoid of life except for the look of telltale animalistic hunger as she eyed the beautiful angel near my feet. I knew what would happen next because it was always the same when the body's hunger for ADAM overpowered the individual's mind.

Sure enough, she drew a small kitchen knife from she had hidden it beneath her clothing and then began to stumble towards our location as she held it with its blade serrated side down in her shaking right hand. I let out a rumbling roar to try to snap her out of her daze but it did not seem to get through to her. The other individuals began to retreat to prevent being a part of what was about to unfold. Due to the length of the tunnel, I continued to glance back and forth between either side of me in case this woman had an accomplice that was going to try to snatch Eleanor while I was distracted by her.

However, soon it became apparent that no one else wanted anything to do with her suicidal attack and, thus, I focused on the female Splicer. As she closed to within twenty yards, I let out another rumbling guttural roar that shook the entire tunnel in an attempt to shock her back to her senses but the rational human being was long gone and she continued to stumble towards me as if she was in a trance. There was nothing that I could do for her as my last roar was enough to have given her a nasty headache and possibly permanent hearing loss as well. For Alpha Series Big Daddies, killing was a last resort but we did not hesitate when there was not an alternative. She had left me no choice. I revved up my drill and waited for her to get close enough for me to impale her with its whirling bit.

Suddenly, she raised her left arm and I realized that she was going to use a Plasmid. I was shocked that the broken individual had both the EVE and the willpower to properly use a Plasmid, let alone attempt to use it against a Big Daddy, and prepared to weather whatever she was planning to use against me. The skin of her left hand and forearm began to sprout lumpy, misshapen shards of genetic ice before, seconds later, she let out an animalistic scream and willed an icicle-shaped object at me. Reacting quickly, I rotated my torso as I swung my drill from my left to my right and deflected the incoming needle-shaped projectile, which flew off to my right.

I recovered and turned my attention back to my assailant in anticipation of her desperate lunge with her knife. However, when I did, I was greeted by the morbid sight of the female Splicer on her knees less than five yards in front of me with her knife on the ground beside her and her right hand now clutching the largest of the numerous icicles that were now sticking of her body. The woman's badly mangled left arm was down by her side and frost covered her entire frame. Whatever she had injected into her body was definitely not any version of Winter Blast or the rare Old Man's Winter Plasmid. It must have been a bootlegged Plasmid that, judging by the hollow casing that had once been the Splicer's left arm and hand, had turned the bones or her left arm into the genetic icicles.

Due to the nature of Plasmids, it was incredibly dangerous to inject one's self with the ones manufactured by Fontaine Futuristics, let alone one that had been created by some hack in his bathtub. Godlike power came at the cost of not only irreparable genetic damage and also at the risk of death if an individual possessed any kind of genetic anomaly that interfered with the Plasmid as it rewrote his or her DNA. Ryan's unregulated Free Market allowed Fontaine Futuristics to sell Plasmids and Tonics that did not have to be safe, just work enough to allow for a commercially viable product.

The woman's bloodied body was trembling as I powered down my drill and then walked towards her. When I stood before her, she lifted her head up and then looked at me with her dead eyes. I returned it with the equally cold, emotionless segmented glass viewport of my diving helmet. We had both been human beings before this city had turned us into monsters. There was an unspoken mutual understanding between all of us that had been twisted by this utopia turned house of monsters that was almost familial in nature. After all, only a monster could understand another monster. Almost as if she was thanking me for ending her misery, there was finally a faint glimmer of light in her eyes just before my drill's razor sharp point penetrated through the center of her forehead.

Pushing aside the memory, I tossed the Gene Tonic vial onto the floor. This city had many sins to answer for but it never would before it drowned. After turning back to the double doors, I began to exit the room to pursue the fleeing Wales brother. As I neared the doors, I heard the telltale high-pitched report of Subject Alpha's Prototype Rivet Gun which was shortly followed by the sound of small arms fire.

I reached the exit only to have the ornate wooden frame doors stop after less than a quarter of the way open. I let out an irritated grunt as the city's war-torn and neglected infrastructure once again impeded my advance. With no time for finesse, I simply used my tree trunk-sized legs to propel myself against the flimsy wooden obstacles. My heavily armored and spliced frame easily powered its way through the doors in a cloud of wooden shards.

My momentum carried me out into the hallway and I collided against the peeling red wallpaper-covered wooden wall with my right shoulder. The force of the impact was enough to cause the right side of my body to penetrate into the rotting wood barrier all the way to the perimeter of my diving helmet where it securely fastened to my diving suit. I quickly pulled myself free and then began to rush down the short hallway towards the area around the main lobby. The sounds of submachine gun fire, Alpha's Rivet Gun, and multiple alarming security devices filled the air as the remaining hostile residents of the brothel crawled out of the woodwork in one last-ditch attempt to survive.

When I turned the corner, I found Daniel Wales in the middle of the makeshift bridge with his back to me and firing his modified Thompson Submachine Gun at Subject Alpha where he stood just on the other side to block the former architect from escaping. Meanwhile, my brother was being besieged by two Spider Splicers though there had originally been more judging by the multiple humanoid corpses on the floor around the Alpha Series Big Daddy. As I approached Daniel, the bloodied body of a male Leadhead Splicer fell past the second floor as it plummeted to the ground. The sight of the falling body and the sounds of muffled screams and gunfire above me meant that Jennifer was dealing with what remained of the denizens on the third floor.

I had reached the middle of the walkway when the sound of sharp metal points being driven into and out of marble drew my attention to the nearby ornate column to my left. There, I saw the gangly frame of a horribly disfigured Spider Splicer dressed in little more than rags crawling down the length of the column as if he truly was an insect while he cackled maniacally. Before the abomination could attack, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my left hand into the denizen and then propelled myself forward into the column.

The entire brothel shook as my heavy frame impacted the marble object. A loud cracking sound filled the air before the entire column gave way and toppled over. The Spider Splicer's paralyzed body could not free itself from the two cargo hooks that were imbedded into the column before the heavy marble object smashed through a section of the fallen metal support beam and then impacted the lobby floor in a cloud of dust. Through the settling cloud, I saw the limp extremities of the abomination sticking out from underneath the now segmented column. Having dealt with the distraction, I turned my attention back to the architect turned pimp.

The commotion caused by my dispatching of the Spider Splicer alerted Daniel to my presence and he began to open fire with his Thompson Submachine Gun. The short proximity prevented me from being able to react in time and I involuntarily let out a rumbling growl as the hail of .50 BMG rounds began to tear into my body. My suit's built-in Life Support System began to pump the contents of my First Aid Reserve Tank into my system and I forced my body to fight through what felt as if it was being repeatedly struck with multiple sledgehammers while it was being immolated as I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from my left hand.

The Wales brother cried out a series of fragmented curse words and phrases while his body shook violently as it was enveloped by bright blue arcs of electricity. Before he could recover, I charged forward and, upon reaching the disfigured alcoholic, I took hold of his right shoulder with my gauntlet-encased left hand with a vise-like grip. Daniel had just managed to recover as I leaned back and then delivered a bone-shattered head butt into the center of his forehead.

A dull metallic echo filled the inside of my diving helmet as a result of the impact while the sickening sound of crunching bone filled the air around me. The heavy weight of my helmet combined with the force of the blow cracked open the man's disfigured forehead. The pimp's formal hat fell off his head, revealing the patchy hair that had prematurely greyed and the lumpy skin of his scalp. Letting out a wheeze and with the blood seeping of his forehead now covering most of his face and also his dirty yellow suit and exposed white undershirt, Daniel collapsed onto the ground while he dropped his weapon.

I started to finish him off by completely crushing his skull with the sole of my right weighted diving boot but paused as he retrieved a small square-shaped device from his coat pocket with his right hand. I was intrigued by the possible identity of what "Ace in the hole" a Splicer would have but I still raised my entombed right foot and then stomped down on his already badly damaged skull. Blood and bits of brain matter coated my boot and the nearby sections of the floor as the former architect seemingly met his end under the weight of my heavily armored frame. However, to my disgust and confusion, the index finger of the corpse's right hand still pressed down on the single dark grey button of the muddy white plastic device.

The sound of two chirping Security Bots caused me to rotate my entire body to face the nearby lobby. There, I saw that two false wall panels had fallen away from either side of the wall above the entrance to reveal two hidden seemingly stolen and reprogrammed automatons. The two bots had been repainted bright yellow, had additional metal plates welded to their frames, and were armed with not just one Thompson Submachine Gun but four with two mounted on either side of their heavily modified frames underneath what resembled the robust rectangular wings of the American Grumman F6F "Hellcat" Fighter Aircraft.

The pair began to open fire upon me but I revved up my industrial-grade drill to reflect the incoming hail of lead while I also began to charge up my Electro Bolt Plasmid. However, just before I could neutralize both Security Bots with a single, charged blast of genetic electricity, I suddenly felt as if my entire body was being slowly ripped apart as my Little Sister charge let out a terrified scream that sounded more like the cry of a wounded animal than that of a child crying out for help. In the incredibly short amount of time that my logical thoughts remained in control of my mind, I was able to figure out that Daniel had somehow been able to get back to his feet and then had shot me at point blank range with a scattergun of some kind.

With the angle that he had, the metal balls of the shotgun round had mostly bounced harmlessly off my heavily armored Life Support Systems. However, the precious little girl that was riding on her throne on my back did not have any armor and had been badly wounded by multiple projectiles piercing her soft, fragile frame. The memories of Sally's soul-shattering screams for help in Fontaine's Department Store and Eleanor's screams for help in Adonis Resorts flashed before my mind's eye as the intense burning sensation of my Protector Instincts roared into my mind like an unstoppable locomotive from the darkest part of my psyche.

As the normal calm yellow glow of my segmented eye and two auxiliary lights was replaced by hellfire red, I found myself hoping that Daniel would find mercy in the afterlife because he certainly would not find any from the demon inside me. Subject Delta had no sympathy for anyone that lived off the exploitation of others and, as he had demonstrated during his brutal killing of Elizabeth, he did not see the difference between someone who directly harmed a Little Sister and someone who inadvertently harmed a Little Sister. Seconds later, all logical thought ceased as my mind drowned in a molten sea of murderous rage and the monster was let out of his cage.

I powered down my drill and then, with little care for the hail of lead impacting my frame, I reared back, pulled my arms back behind me slightly as I looked towards the third floor walkway above me, and then let out a deafening guttural roar that rocked Siren Alley to its core. Multiple light fixtures inside The Pink Pearl popped and the building itself shook while dust and several metal support beams fell from the ceiling of the lobby as if the entire structure was going to collapse as a result of my enraged roar.

I had been greatly surprised when my master had ordered the weak old fool to kill the disgusting cockroach that dared to call itself a man instead of me. Why? Why had she not ordered me to do it? She knew that all she had to do was let me out and I would do anything she said without question. Yet, she had picked the old fool over me? I was the ultimate Big Daddy! There was no foe, whether it be man, beast, or demon, that I could not kill!

Why? Why? Did she believe me to be getting weak because of my inability to understand the stupid girl? Yes! That must be the reason! So, everyone thought that Old Delta was getting soft? Then it was time to show all of them just how wrong they were!

I turned my entire frame to face the parasite to find him backing up towards the flimsy wooden bridge at the end of the walkway. Its head was certain proof that this creature was not human anymore due to excessive ADAM exposure as it resembled a tomato that someone had used a meat hammer to flatten. The only features that were still even remotely human were the left eye and the visible fragments of what remained of the upper and lower jaws. High levels of ADAM exposure allowed the human body to withstand incredible amounts of physical injury but it was very likely that the actual part that had been "Daniel" was dead.

Ignoring the pump-action ornate shotgun in the Splicer's hands, I charged forward and then slammed into it. The force of the impact sent the fragile Splicer flying backwards about a foot where it landed on its back. Back it could recover, I ran forward and then jumped as high as I could despite my massive frame. As I landed, I brought the sole of my right boot onto the center of its torso. The wooden bridge beneath us gave way and we fell down to floor of the lobby. The repeated impact of my entire body weight had likely completely collapsed its ribcage but there was still signs of life in the rat when I withdrew from its body.

Revving up my drill, I sent its whirling bit down to bore into what remained of the bloody and beaten parasite's head. However, at the last second, the Splicer rolled to its right and my drill simply bored harmlessly into the wooden floor. It tried to crawl away but, letting out a loud irritated roar, I powered down my drill and ripped it out of the floor before reaching out with my gauntlet-encased left hand and taking hold of the fleeing coward's left ankle. While the rat tried clawing uselessly against the floor panels beneath it with its fingernails to get away from me, I used my immense strength to easily lift it off the floor. Then, wheeling around, I threw the former exploiter at the pair of custom Security Bots, which were still uselessly attacking me with their comically ineffective ordinance from where they were in the air in the center of the lobby approximately between the second and third floors.

My aim was true and the cockroach hit the one on the right with enough force to send it crashing into wall to the right of the exit. I focused my attention on the remaining Security Bot but, before I could dispatch the nuisance, Jennifer jumped through air from the third floor to briefly perch herself against the far wall above the entrance. Then, displaying the formidable physical prowess of her ADAM-fueled body, she jumped towards the automaton, grabbed it with both hands, ripped it apart, and then landed her feet before me.

Dropping the halves of the bot onto the floor, she commented with a muffled voice, "Boys and their toys…"

Agonized moaning drew my attention to the center of the lobby behind her. There, I saw the somehow still living rat getting to its feet. Its stubbornness to continue drawing breath had once been amusing but now I found that my patience was gone. Much like the structure around me, with its lobby now filled with fallen metal support beams and a toppled column, the cockroach just did not know when to cease its struggle. Moving past the armored young woman, I revved up my drill and then thrust it into the Splicer's back just as it had managed to get back on its feet.

I could hear the vertebrae crunching for a moment as a strange gurgling sound emanated from the mangled jaws of the abomination before the tip of my drill appeared on the other side of the torso. I hardly even noticed the fresh coat of blood on my diving helmet and suit or the even the spray on the exterior of my segmented glass eye. My rage began to subside as the body became limp. With my job done, the hellish red glow of my eye and auxiliary lights changed back to their normal yellow glow as the old fool regained control.

My rational thoughts returned as the monster was put back into his cage. As I forcibly removed the lifeless corpse from my drill, I was struck by the devastation that had been inflicted upon the brothel. The lobby had four massive metal support beams on both sides of the main floor area, effectively blocking the stairwell to the upper floors, in addition to the fallen marble column that was in several pieces. Multiple bodies littered the floor including the Spider Splicer that was crushed beneath the largest intact section of the column and the almost unrecognizable bloody mass that was at my feet. Smoke was starting to fill the air, indicating that our actions had inadvertently resulted in several fires.

Naturally, due to the incredible danger that fire posed to a pressurized environment such as Rapture, The Pearl had been built with an automated fire suppression system much like the sprinkler systems found on the surface except on a much more powerful scale. The unbelievably effective fire suppression systems of Rapture were for lack of a better description "overkill". However, with the oxygen-rich and pressurized atmosphere of the underwater city, a single blaze left unchecked could easily consume all of the surrounding oxygen before Rapture's Environmental Stabilization System could respond in time to prevent the imploding of the section of the city surrounding the raging inferno.

Of course, just like the rest of Rapture, the days of The Pearl possessing a functional fire suppression system were long gone. The floor of the lobby shook as Subject Alpha landed about a foot to my right. I turned my entire frame to allow me to look at my brother. The well-equipped hardened veteran grunted, "All hostile targets neutralized, sir. It is not advisable to remain in this area any longer due to the structural damage." I grunted in agreement and then we began to leave the smoldering remains of the brothel.

As we did, I asked my daughter through our bond with my weathered, gruff voice, '_You alright, kid? Forgive me…I'm sorry I let you get hurt._'

The feeling of bliss filled my mind like a calming cloud as the young woman replied with her enchanting accented voice, '_I'm fine, Father. Do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for…I was the one who sent you after Daniel. Still, I think that it would be best to send this Little One on her way. Do not worry about another Gathering Session with this Little Sister…the doctor and I have finished the first supply package/gift from all of us. I assure you that its contents will make up for prematurely parting with this Little One._'

I was grateful for their effort but I still warned the blossoming goddess, '_I appreciate your help, El. However, tread lightly…if your mother finds out that you…_'

The blue-eyed brunette interrupted me with a mischievous tone that was very familiar to me, '_Oh…if dear old Mother has not already figured out everything that I have done…I would be very disappointed. After all, the game is not fun if the other player is too dense to even participate._'

Sensing my confusion, Eleanor explained, '_Do you really believe that I ever once intended to allow Mother to get the last laugh? For years now, I have had nothing but time to plan…patiently waiting for the moment to set everything into motion. If Mother has slipped so far into her own fantasies that she has not figured everything out already…realized that her daughter is so unwilling to have anything to do with her that she brought a dead man back to life…and not just any man but the one that haunts her blood-stained hands…and is now actively assisting him on his quest to reach her…then I guess I really do pity her._'

By then, we had left The Pink Pearl behind us as it marched towards it impending fiery demise. Before me in the path between the bar and the right wall were two men, one wearing a dirty brown business suit and armed with a modified pump-action shotgun and the other wearing simple worker's attire and armed with a Thompson Submachine Gun. Beyond them was a Brute Splicer that was charging towards them on all fours while they discharged their weapons at the hulking monstrosity. Within seconds, the heavily spliced abomination had dispatched the two lesser Splicers and turned his attention to us.

However, just as he started to charge towards us, the ghostly image of Subject Alpha manifested just to his left. My brother's Decoy Plasmid succeeded in distracting the Brute as he turned his entire body and then began to uselessly strike the figure inches away from him. The comical sight of the monstrosity repeatedly punching Subject Alpha as my brother continued to casually stand as if he was completely unmoved by the powerful physical blows was a brief but welcomed reprieve from the otherwise humorless life or death circumstances that we were in.

Without missing a beat, I charged the genetic electricity that was emanating from my gloved left hand and then willed an immensely powerful blast of Electro Bolt into the Brute Splicer. The abomination let out an agonized cry as his body was paralyzed by the raw power of my Plasmid. Before he could recover, Jennifer ran forward a few steps before she jumped to the nearby right wall and then launched herself towards the struggling Brute.

Having already seen multiple Brute Splicers die in less than two hours, I turned my entire frame to my left and then began to make my way to the Little Sister Vent at the end of the street. As I did, my helmet's built-in radio crackled to life. Whatever disgusting remains of my former human face still existed beneath the emotionless copper façade of the monster that I had become scowled as Sofia's irritatingly smug voice began to pipe through my radio.

My murderer lectured me, "Faith, Delta…it dwells within us, yet beyond us. Daniel Wales lacked it; Father Simon Wales does not." Refusing to give Lamb any kind of victory, I simply continued towards the ornate vent. The cult leader was not content and finished, "The faithful do not die in fear, as you did…we achieve martyrdom."

As my radio powered back off, I nearly laughed at the unbelievable level of narcissism that the psychiatrist had just demonstrated. Sofia Lamb was the last person who had any business lecturing a rock, let alone a sentient being, about faith. She had used it as a tool to attack Andrew Ryan in the shameful excuse for a public debate on the topic of religious rights in Rapture. She was also now shamelessly using a bastardized version of religion to manipulate the miserable and desperate Splicers into being part of her disgusting, amoral science experiment on her own daughter, who she had forced to watch the closest person to her heart involuntarily shoot himself point blank in the side of his head when she was an already victimized child. Of course, said daughter would have probably not been forced to endure inhuman amounts of physical and mental trauma that would have destroyed most adults, let alone a little girl, had Sofia cared enough about another living creature to not purposely get herself arrested and essentially abandon her child to the mercy of fate in a city where everything was for sale and nothing was illegal.

I cast aside such thoughts while berating myself for losing focus. Sofia would be dealt with when the time came. So many people had put blind faith in me and I would be damned before I failed them. Even if it cost me my life, I would end the nightmare of this city and ensure that its madness would never reach the surface.

Having reached the Little Sister Vent, I slowly lowered myself down onto my right knee to allow my exhausted companion to safely get down. The little girl dismounted and then moved around me. I grunted as the joints of my heavily-built frame protested while I stood back upright. Upon standing, I could not help but smile slightly as the Little Sister attempted to meet my gaze only to be on the verge of falling asleep as she stood there. The veins in my left arm began to glow with an almost surreal white light that traveled to my left palm just as I gently placed it on top of the precious little girl's head.

My vision was overwhelmed by the light while at the same time that my body became filled with the sensation of intoxicating raw power as it absorbed the ADAM in the child's tiny frame. However, before my senses could recover, I felt the familiar sensation of bliss take possession of my being while the edges of my field of vision became tinged with a glowing pink color. After a moment, just as she had done in Pauper's Drop, Eleanor appeared before me.

Of course, it could have just been my imagination, but I noted that her body was no longer awkwardly proportioned like that of a typical blossoming young adult. While she still had an innocent façade, the exponentially increasing physical power that her deceptively thin frame possessed was undeniable. So, while someone on the surface would easily mistake her for just being casually fit, in reality, the beautiful brunette possessed the muscular fortitude to match or even overpower an Alpha Series Big Daddy.

Eleanor flashed a slight smile that resembled the ones that I had given her when I had been able to all those years ago and then began to move towards me. I met her halfway and held her almost uncomfortably hot ADAM-fueled frame that was somehow firm and soft at the same time as we kissed each other. Eventually, our lips parted and Eleanor lowered her head until she was able to rest her right cheek against the center of my chest. Continuing to hold the beautiful young woman that was literally my other half, I carefully rested the bottom of my lower right jaw against the top of her head at a slight inward angle.

As I savored Eleanor's presence, I allowed myself to dream about having a family with her. We were a close-knit family that had a peaceful existence far away from the chaos of a city. We had a little girl that was as beautiful and intelligent as her mother but as headstrong and tough as her father. It took me a moment to notice that Eleanor had started to hold one of my hands as she silently studied what I was thinking. I had lost my ability to have faith in anything long before I had arrived in Rapture. However, I did still believe in having a dream, no matter how unlikely it was that it would happen.

I continued to hold her until she stirred and withdrew from me. As my senses began to return my back to reality, Eleanor warned me, '_Do not take confronting Simon lightly, Father. He is a psychopath and, ever since Papa Alpha's visit to his church while he was attending a meeting here with Mother, he has been growing increasingly unstable by the day. So please, be careful, Johnny._'

I assured her, '_I will, kid._'

Just before her presence vanished completely, Eleanor informed me, '_The Little One with the supplies should be arriving at that vent soon. Please wait for her._' Without waiting for my response, my bonded partner returned to her own body.

I found myself standing in front of the Little Sister Vent. The little girl had already escaped into the ventilation network. Seeing the abandoned Gathering Tool on the ground, I crushed the cobbled together item beneath my right diving boot to prevent an opportunistic Splicer from gaining access to the minute amount of ADAM that was still inside the hollow needle and the bottom of the baby bottle reservoir. The tiny amount of ADAM was of very little use to my brother or me but I was not going to take the chance that one of Siren Alley's denizens would have another reason to be near this Little Sister Vent.

I moved to stand just to the left of the vent and then turned my frame so that I was facing the street. Alpha moved to stand on the opposite side of the vent and Jennifer sat down on top of the body of the Brute Splicer that she had slain while we had been defending the Little Sister. I watched as she began to write equations and cryptic symbols in blood that she ejected from her needle. Naturally, I was deeply concerned about her using her own blood to draw but, for now, it was not enough to become a medical issue because her body was not fragile by any means.

Curious, I asked her with my Alpha Series voice, "What do you like to draw, Jen?"

Looking back up at me with her blood-stained glowing eye, she replied with her deadpan and intelligence-filled voice, "This one is Schrödinger's Equation…it is a partial differential equation that describes how the state of a system changes with time…basically, it allows someone to predict change. I can do all the work in my head but it helps to write it down."

Genuinely amazed, I asked, "You can do Quantum Mechanic equations in your head?"

The troubled young woman let out a sigh and then looked back down at her work as she explained, "After years of practice, it is not that big of a deal. I have even formulated my own equations in my spare time. Most of mine are theoretical solutions to errors that I have found in other people's equations, but a few are entirely new concepts."

Seeing an opportunity to give her something positive to fight for, I said, "You should get a degree and put that mind of yours to good use on the surface."

She let out a soft laugh before she replied, "They would never accept me, Papa Delta. You saw how I look beneath my armor. I am a monster. Monsters never get a happy ending. The happy endings are when the monster is slain by the valiant hero and the town is saved."

While I thought that she was beautiful, the people on the surface would not likely respond very well to her viper-like eyes, porcelain white skin, and silver hair. Moreover, while someone such as Subject Alpha or myself could be "cured" once Tenenbaum and Subject Sigma finished their work, the Big Sisters could not be cured without dying because of the nature of their bodies. However, a good thing about most of the surface was that no one actually cared and with the proper connections, with enough hard work, or with enough money, anyone could achieve her or his dream. The depressing truth was that her greatest obstacle was that she was a woman and my understanding was that the male-dominated academic world tended to downplay and belittle women and their contributions to their respective fields.

However, her comment implied that she had given a measure of thought about what she could do with herself on the surface. I could not let her think that she was better off never making it out of the city. Subject Lambda was not here to set her straight so I would have to do my best for him.

I explained, "Hey, what kind of excuse is that?! You know what your old man would say if he had heard you say that? Lambda would have told you to not give a toss about what they think. You do not need their acceptance. Your family…your sisters…Subject Alpha, Sigma, and I…we will always accept you. The entire world could reject you but that would just make us accept you even more. Besides, who needs acceptance when you can rub your success in their arrogant faces?"

I heard her give off a dry laugh before, looking back up at me, the Elite Big Sister said in response, "You are a very strange person, Papa Delta. You are right, though. If…I mean…when we get to the surface, I will get a degree and then show them all how it is done…whether they like it or not."

I smiled ever so slightly beneath my emotionless copper façade and then grunted, "That's the spirit!"

Though I already had a good idea about what he would say, or more likely not say at all, I turned my frame so that I was facing my brother and then asked, "What about you?"

The Alpha Series Big Daddy simply returned my gaze and, after a moment of silence, I turned back to face the street once again. Alpha had always been a very private individual and that often gave people the wrong impression about him. He was actually a very kind-hearted and sentimental individual but usually only Emily and I saw it. However, to my surprise, seconds later I heard my brother grunt in response, "Sand and Sun…"

Without looking back at him, I asked, "Ah…Emily still wants that beach house?"

Alpha replied, "Yes, sir. Personally, I just want to see the Sun again. The thought of seeing Emily and the Sun keeps me going."

Knowing that my brother preferred to keep such discussions brief, I did not say anything in response. As we continued to wait for the arrival of the little girl, I began to wonder if I had been a little too hard on Sofia and her use of, among other things, "faith" to keep the Splicers under her spell. It was dirty and underhanded but considering the hellish conditions of Rapture, it was not the worst thing that she could have done. Dreams and faith were very powerful when it came to keeping someone from falling apart and also when it came to putting them back together. I had lived through The Great Depression and I knew what happened to people who had nothing to live for. Having a strong will was not enough if an individual had nothing to focus on.

As for myself, I knew that realistically it was unlikely that what I wanted would happen, for more reasons other than that surviving this nightmare was incredibly unlikely. However, I could feel how happy it made Eleanor when she saw it and, for her, I was willing to fight until my body turned cold once again. Everyone dreams of a second chance but very few ever get one and I was going to make sure that I did not waste mine.


	25. Chapter 25: Woodsman and Red Riding Hood

Ch. 25: Woodsman and Red Riding Hood

* * *

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

Sorry about missing July. A lot of crazy stuff was going on.

I am back in school as of yesterday but I will continue to do my best to get my stories updated.

Anyway,

I am trying to make this story as interesting as I can because I feel like a boring, predictable one would be an insult to you guys.

So…I hope this update was worth the wait! :)

Read and review if you want!

* * *

As we waited for the delivery, I became increasingly anxious. The likelihood of a Splicer attack increased the longer we stayed in one location. In addition, we risked unnecessarily drawing the ire of a wandering Mass Production Model as the lumbering giant attempted to access the Little Sister Vent in order to summon one of the little girls to be his temporary partner in a Gathering Session. I did not know how many of the Tin Men were roaming the war-torn halls of the slowly capitulating sunken city but with our ever-increasing pressure on her ADAM supply line, Sofia had no choice but to have every active Protector out in the streets in an attempt to stop us and keep the pipeline alive.

However, fortunately, my anxiety was short-lived as the sounds of a large object moving through the vent network soon drew my attention to the access point behind me. I turned to see the top of a young brunette's head appear in the vent's opening. Her grimy white ribbon and dirty hair was soon followed by her heart-shaped face. After studying her for a moment, I realized that she was the Little Sister that I had "exorcised" in the workshop at Ryan Amusements.

I was struck by how bright and cheerful her emerald green eyes and smile were considering the circumstances that she was in. I could not imagine how traumatic being kidnapped and then changed into a Little Sister before being "exorcised" by a big burly man clad in an intimidating armored diving suit wielding a massive mining drill had been on her. The nightmare fuel environment of post-Civil War Rapture had undoubtedly only compounded what she was going through. The fact that she seemed to be holding it together even at her young age was very admirable as the situation would have been overwhelming for most full-grown adults.

I moved forward to assist her as she smiled even brighter while she continued to emerge from the vent. By then, I could see most of her upper body and I noticed that the young girl had a length of twine rope the thickness of an average man's index finger wrapped around her frame in a kind of harness that circled around her waist and her shoulders in a way that reminded me of how a backpack was worn.

As I reached out to assist her with my gloved left hand, the dirty and tired angel waved her right hand while she also addressed me with a cheerful tone, "Hello mister!"

Not wanting to add to the already hellish nature of what she was experiencing, I let out as least terrifying-sounding of a grunt as I could in response. As I had helped her down to the landing of the vent, I saw that the other end of the rope was still inside the opening of the access point. The child turned back to face the vent and then began to pull on the rope.

However, due to the shape of the interior shaft of the ventilation network and the presumably large size and weight of the object that the little girl had been tasked to deliver to us, she was unable to pull it out of the vent. I reached into the opening with my free left hand until I felt my fingers brush up against a knot of rope. Gripping the knot, I lifted the entire package out of the vent.

The light of the war-torn street revealed the object to be a rectangular shipping crate that was about the length of one of my arms and was about as deep as an ammunition box. The crate was constructed by various slim pieces of wood that formed a skeletal frame. The length of rope was wrapped around the box with four parts of it running along each side of the crate before joining together at the very front where they were tied into a knot. Through the spaces between the pieces of wood, I saw several glowing vials of Gene Tonics and ADAM. On top of the crate, I saw various crayon drawings of flowers, the Sun, and a crude version of an Alpha Series Big Daddy. In addition, there was a large red bow tied around the center of the top piece of wood.

As I lowered the crate down onto the street, the former Little Sister chirped in a grateful tone, "Thank you, mister."

I let out as friendly of a grunt as I could in response. After I placed the crate on the ground, I unsheathed my diving knife and then used it to cut the rope free from the little girl. She giggled and twirled around as if she was dancing as the ropes fell from her tiny frame and onto the ground. I could not help but let out some grunts of amusement as I cut the rope from around the crate and then shoved the tip of my non-magnetic knife underneath one of the ends of the top plank of wood. After prying up the corner, I then moved to the other side and repeated the process.

When the plank was loose, I screwed my knife back into its sheath, took ahold of the board with my gloved left hand, and then lifted it off the crate. I tossed the board aside and then examined the contents. Inside, there were four large vials with accompanying empty EVE Hypos. The first two on the left were completely filled with pure ADAM judging by the dark green substance inside of them and the remaining two appeared to be filled with some Gene Tonics. The two on the left both had tags that were attached to their necks by thin white string. The first tag had the Greek symbol for "Alpha" written in black ink and the second tag had the Greek symbol for "Delta" written in purple ink.

I was perplexed until I remembered that my brother required occasional doses of ADAM that had been produced by Emily's body in order to restrain his biological kill switch. He had already mentioned that Emily was smuggling out care packages to him so, even with both of them quarantined, Emily and Eleanor had found a way to get two vials of ADAM to Tenenbaum, who then put them into the care package.

I briefly questioned how clueless Sofia actually was considering that even putting the two young women in quarantine did not stop them from helping their Big Daddy Protectors. However, I decided that such a move was simply akin to locking a teenager in his or her room and expecting that the locked door and the physical walls would be enough to force her or him to behave. Given her profession, one would think that Sofia would have known that there is no force on Earth that can make a rebellious teenager such as Eleanor stop doing what she has her heart set on doing.

My companions had gathered around the crate by that time. Jennifer leaned down towards the small child until she had her hands on her knees. The armored young woman then waved at the little girl with her right hand. The girl giggled while she held her tiny balled fists up to be just below her eyes before she waved back with her right hand in response. The armored assassin reached forward and gently lifted the child up by placing her hands underneath the much smaller girl's shoulders. The former gatherer was clearly delighted by the action and the cheerful child pretended to be an airplane as the diving suit-clad woman took her over to the vent.

Moments before the little girl retreated back into the network, she looked at me and then said, "Good luck, mister! We believe in you!"

Before I could reply, she disappeared from view as she crawled back into the vent. The horribly transformed remnants of the human being that I had once been smiled briefly as I heard the child's last statement. The thought that my actions and presence were giving the kidnapped children a sense of hope that they would be going home filled me with a sensation that I had not felt since I was transformed into the armored abomination that was seemingly born in the depths of a madman's nightmares. There was little doubt that the sight of a blood-stained, heavily-built, diving suit-clad humanoid towering above the height of any normal human being that had glowing eyes was almost the textbook definition of the Boogeyman for a young child. After being feared and avoided as if I was the Devil himself, it was a strange but not unwelcome feeling of fulfillment to be seen as something other than a monster.

I criticized myself for thinking such a preposterous fantasy. The girl was clearly still under the influence of the Gatherer programming. She was physically free from what the scientists in the Rapture Family had done to her but it would take years for her mind to rid itself of the Little Sister programming. She would likely never completely rid herself of what they had done to her. Any normal individual, let alone a child, would be justifiably terrified of me.

Returning my attention to the vials, I saw Alpha using his Telekinesis Plasmid and an EVE Hypo to inject Emily's ADAM into the IV Tube's opening on his left arm. As he did, I heard him letting out a soft rumbling grunt. The amount of ADAM in a re-purposed Plasmid/Gene Tonic vial was immense, approximately four or five times the amount of ADAM that we had been receiving from the Little Sisters that we had been temporarily escorting, but the reason for his body's reaction was the result of his deep rooted connection to his bonded partner. The effect was akin to two halves of the same soul being temporarily reunited.

After he finished and returned the empty vial to the crate, my brother bent down and discretely removed the tiny label from its stem. The secretly sentimental Protector took great care to not crush the piece of paper with his massive left hand as he quickly placed it in the special compartment on his weighted diving belt where we all kept our money. It was Emily's handwriting so she had personally written the symbol on the tag. Not wanting to interrupt my brother's brief moment of being reunited with his bonded partner, I turned my attention to the contents of the crate.

Using my own Telekinesis Plasmid and the EVE Hypo, I began to inject the ADAM into my system through the IV Line on my left arm. As I did, I felt my body begin to burn as if the substance had ignited every single cell of my physical being with a blow torch until I was a raging inferno that no force on Earth or Heaven could douse. The intensity of my body's reaction was far beyond what I had experienced when I had been injected with the ADAM that the Little Sisters that had been escorting had gathered. However, this sensation was one that I had experienced before and was also one that I was all too familiar with. As such, I instantly knew what it was that I was injecting into myself.

_"I told you that it would be worth it."_

Eleanor's enchanting voice filled my mind as her ADAM strengthened and invigorated my massive frame. While as far as my body knew it had only been a few hours since it had been graced by the touch of my daughter's ADAM, to me it felt as if it had been an eternity. The closest comparison that I could think of was freshly prepared food compared to canned or pre-made food. The canned food was all well and good but it could never replace its fresh counterpart. The effects were as much psychological as they were physical. I did not know how she had managed to smuggle out an entire vial of her ADAM but I knew that she was more than willing to go to extraordinary lengths in order to help me.

I said through our link, "_Not that I am complaining but I hope that you did not hurt yourself to get this to me._"

The powerful young woman replied, "_Not at all, Father. It is just a drop compared to all the ADAM that Mother has forced into me. What is mine is yours just as much as what is yours is mine. Such a petty amount of pain is nothing compared to having to live without you at my side. Besides, the more I can bleed out of my system, the longer I can stall her plans._"

Having finished injecting myself with my daughter's ADAM, I turned my attention to the remaining Gene Tonics. They were covered with grime and had clearly been in storage for quite some time. I quickly realized that they were more prototype Gene Tonics that had been intended for the Mass Production Models before the concept had been scrapped in favor of using the Tin Men's suits as the source of their strength and power. Using my Telekinesis Plasmid, I willed the leftmost vial out of the crate and close to my segmented eye so that I could examine it.

After briefly rotating the glowing glass container, I found the very faint label of "Lot 132-B" written in slightly raised letters along the side of one of the vertical metal strips. Eleanor was definitely getting into the experimental Tonics if they had never even been given a designation other than their Lot Identification. However, I trusted my bonded partner with my life so, without hesitation, I used an EVE Hypo to inject a syringe-full of Lot 132-B into the IV Port on my left arm.

Less than five seconds later, I let out a grunt of discomfort as I felt the substance begin to re-write my body's genetic makeup. The painful sensation of the very bone and muscle structure of my knee and ankle joints being swiftly altered caused a wave of nausea to hit me but I somehow managed to keep from involuntarily dry heaving. Meanwhile, my torment was being compounded further by the addition of the feeling of all of the muscles in my lower body being ripped apart and then rapidly expanded. I realized that what I was enduring was somewhat similar to what I had felt upon injecting Sports Boost into my body at Ryan Amusements but the agony was nearly tenfold. Fortunately, the Tonic's effects took hold within a very short amount of time and, about twenty seconds later, the ordeal was over.

As I regained my senses, I immediately noted that I felt less burdened by my heavy diving suit and, as I took a step to my left, the familiar resistance of lifting my weighted diving boot entombed foot was absent. Intrigued, I inspected the remaining vial in the crate and found that it was labeled "Lot 132-A".

Upon injecting myself with the contents of the vial, I experienced a similar flood of intense agony as the skeletal and muscular structure of my upper body were rapidly altered in the same manner that my lower body had been moments prior. The ordeal was worth it however because the results were the same as I felt completely unhindered by my heavy Alpha Series suit. Even my right arm felt completely weightless despite the massive industrial-grade, weaponized mining drill mounted over my right hand. Before, I had little trouble in wielding my tool of choice but now it was as if it was not even there.

There was something else different about my body. It felt as if a painless but still raging blaze was burning just below my skin across my entire frame. The sensation was not quite as powerful as the inferno that roared through me when my Protector Instincts took control but it was still very intense. Moreover, when I moved, I could still feel my muscles doing the work but, at the same time, it was as if there was something else powering my movements. Remembering the vial of Eleanor's ADAM, I began to understand what my daughter had given me and what the mysterious Lot 132 did to its host.

Even with all of our forced splicing, the Alpha Series Big Daddies were still bound by the physical limitations of the human body. Unlike the Big Sisters, whose bodies were literally fueled by ADAM, our bodies still relied upon its natural biological mechanisms and that meant that the only way for our strength to increase was to increase our gross muscular mass. However, being confined to a sealed diving suit limited us to a finite amount of space in which to do so. Becoming something akin to the Brute Splicers was definitely out of the question because it would compromise our suits. However, it seemed that the scientists working on the Mass Production Big Daddies had already found a solution to this issue but had either failed to see the potential that it could have had for the Alpha Series Big Daddies or they had deliberately deprived us of the opportunity as some kind of attempt to sabotage our standing as the superior Protectors.

Sensing that I had already figured out what had been done to my body, Eleanor asked with her enchanting voice, "_Do you like being like I am, Father?_"

With my gruff human voice, I replied, "_I cannot believe such a Tonic was developed but not standardized._"

The beautiful goddess suggested, "_They probably did not want to risk the public somehow getting hold of it. It would not have benefitted them even if it had though because of how it works. Even spliced, the average human being simply cannot keep enough of a supply of ADAM in his or her body for it. It is a permanent conversion and it has fatal consequences if its host does not maintain enough ADAM supply for it. My sisters and I developed it naturally due to our tissues constantly being saturated with ADAM and it is why we are so powerful._"

I remarked, "_Which is why you had to fill an entire vial with yours for me…my body is going to burn ADAM at an accelerated rate due to its build and the amount of physical activity I am going to do before we escape the city._"

In response, Eleanor said with a grateful tone, "_Thank you, Johnny._"

Confused, I asked, "_For what?_"

My daughter explained, "_You said 'we escape' without hesitating…not simply saying it to make me feel better. You are starting to believe in a life on the surface. As much as I love you, being a grumpy old man is irritating sometimes._"

I replied, "_Well, I am an old man, kid. We tend to be… you know…grumpy. Respect your elders, Eleanor._"

The young woman asked with a teasing tone, "_What was life like without electricity and moveable printed type?_"

With a flat tone, I said, "_It was great. We wore animal skins, grunted a lot, and hunted mammoths with pointy sticks._"

Imitating the stereotypical caveman, Eleanor asked, "_Johnny invent fire?_"

Mimicking her, I replied, "_No. Johnny invent wheel._" Then, I said, "_Johnny worry not enough ADAM to make to surface._"

Continuing to imitate a caveman, my daughter said in response, "_Eleanor smart. Eleanor calculate amount needed many times. Johnny need trust Eleanor. Eleanor love Johnny…want Johnny give Eleanor children on surface._"

I smiled slightly before I assured her, "_Johnny trust Eleanor. Johnny love for Eleanor burn brighter than big round thing up in sky._"

Eleanor replied, "_Johnny bad with creative love statements._"

Annoyed, I said, "_Eleanor fat._"

She said in response, "_Eleanor kill Johnny next time see him._"

Struggling to keep from laughing, I replied, "_Eleanor wish could kill Johnny. Johnny tougher than biggest rock._ _Eleanor get hurt if try._"

Eleanor shamelessly assured me, "_Eleanor want Johnny hurt her. Eleanor been bad girl…need Daddy punish her._"

Forcibly repressing several images that quickly appeared in my mind, I said, "_Eleanor need stop being weird._"

The beautiful young woman replied with a flat tone, _"Eleanor embrace being weird. Eleanor know Johnny like it when Eleanor pretend be bad daughter. Johnny weird just like Eleanor._"

Meanwhile, I had been making my way towards the Circus of Values Vending Machine that was across from the Mermaid Lounge. Making it through The Pink Pearl and confronting Daniel Wales had greatly depleted my First Aid and EVE reservoirs as well as my drill's fuel tank. There was no telling what Simon and Sofia had in store for us once we made it through the locked security door. Even though my body was now literally fueled by ADAM just like a Big Sister, I could not take any chances by continuing forward without adequate supplies.

After I walked past the Gatherer's Garden and then turned the corner to walk down the street that lead to where we had first entered Siren Alley, I saw a Rumbler Mass Production Model making his way towards me. The Tin Man ignored the corpse of his brutally slain brother lying in the middle of the street as he watched me while he slowly stomped his way closer to me. I returned his gaze for a moment before he turned and walked inside the Mermaid Lounge.

As I began to purchase supplies from the vending machine, I remarked through our Pair Bond's link, "_Eleanor make Johnny weird. Johnny normal before meet Eleanor._"

I felt Eleanor smile before she replied, "_Johnny welcome Eleanor make him weird. Weird more fun than being normal._"

Then, she said with a normal tone, "_Be careful, Father. You are going to have to kill Simon to get past him and Mother is not going to just let you stroll into our old home without doing something drastic to try to stop you. I am not sure what she is planning but she is pacing back and forth outside her office._"

I replied, "_Do not worry, kid. As you said, I am starting to believe in a life on the surface. By god if it kills me, I am going to get to see you smiling beneath a bright blue sunny sky at least once before this old body of mine gives out on me._"

With a happy tone, Eleanor said, "_Johnny…_"

Having finished re-filling my various supplies, I smiled slightly before I said with a confident tone, "_I'll get to you soon in one piece no matter what Simon, your Mother, or even the Devil himself does to try to stop me, Eleanor._"

I moved away from the vending machine to allow Alpha to resupply and then turned to face the Mermaid Lounge. My beautiful daughter replied, "_Ah, now that's the man I fell in love with._"

As I waited for my brother to finish purchasing supplies, I idly studied the entrance to the Mermaid Lounge across the street from where we were. I was surprised that the bright blue sign that had spelled out the name of the bar-style restaurant above the wooden double doors was still functional despite the years of neglect. Even the purple image of a sideways swimming mermaid that was above the bold-lettered word "MERMAID" was still lit. Beside each door about halfway up the wall were two ornate brass lantern-style light fixtures that were also somehow both undamaged and functional.

Further down the wall from the right door, there were two navigational signs that were mounted with one above the other. Both signs were still giving off light, which allowed me to see that the top sign read "PLAZA HEDONE" and the bottom one read "Maintenance Station". Both signs also had a large arrow that pointing to my left down the street in the direction of the Gatherer's Garden Vending Machine.

The entrance to the lounge was situated a short distance from the edge of the street. Directly to the left was the large concrete flight of stairs that lead up to the second story deck of the plaza that we were in. Above the entrance was the short bridge that ran above the street below and had been where the Rumbler Mass Production Model that Subject Delta had killed was standing when we had first spotted him upon entering Siren Alley. Leading up to the entrance from the edge of the street was a short flight of stairs with only four steps. There was a pair of windows mounted into the wooden frame of the doors but they were covered with too much grim for me to see inside the restaurant.

Moments later, my brother finished replenishing his supplies and we began to make our way to back to the locked door inside the auxiliary pumping station. However, we had not made it any more than halfway down the street when, suddenly, an ear-shattering explosion came from inside the Mermaid Lounge that was powerful enough to shatter the windows of the doors. No more than a second later, a blood-chilling little girl's scream erupted from inside the lounge. The following thunderous roar from the Rumbler Mass Production Model and yells from various Splicers were almost completely lost on me as the Little Sister's scream of pure terror echoed inside my entire being as it began to slowly drive me insane.

Seconds later, I completely snapped as I heard the endangered little girl let out an agonized cry that sounded as if she was being gutted alive before she then screamed with an almost impossibly loud voice, "NO! HELP! PAPA DELTA!"

I did not even have time to register the flood of maddening rage that stormed into my mind as Subject Delta was let out of his cage before I was sprinting towards the entrance to the lounge with my drill already revved up as the single-minded goal of saving the already wounded little angel from what was undoubtedly certain death. The memory of Sally's screams as she was being cooked alive inside the vents of Fontaine's Department Store fueled my resolve as the possibility of not being able to reach an endangered Little Sister in time to save her from an inhumanly cruel death was once again all too real.

In less than three seconds, I had reached the entrance to the bar. The doors were automatic and I could have waited for them to open. However, I never even slowed down because I was certain that if I hesitated for even a moment, I would be finding the disemboweled corpse of the little girl. The sounds of splintering wood and sheering metal filled the air as I collided with the double doors while they were only a quarter of the way open. The force of the impact caused the wooden frames of the doors to break by first splitting vertically at the spot where they retracted into the walls when they opened and then bending inwards to give way to my frame.

Upon entering the lounge, I took in the situation instantly. The restaurant was two stories with the flight of stairs to gain access to the upper floor directly to the left as you entered through the doors. The first floor was largely dominated by the bar area that was directly in front of you as you entered the lounge.

The wooden bar counter was "L"-shaped and situated in a way that you faced the shorter end as it ended flush up against the dividing wall between the bar and the kitchen area on the left side of the floor upon entering the establishment. Two light fixtures hung down from the ceiling above the bar counter by a wire that connected them to their ceiling mounts. Directly above the bar counter was a matching edge of the second floor because the upper floor did not extend all the way out to the front wall. At the back of the bar area was the restroom and an El Ammo Bandito Vending Machine with the machine against the back wall and the entrance to the bathroom to the right of it.

To the right of the bar was a side room that was accessible via an open doorway. From where I was by the entrance, I saw several booths against the far exterior wall of the side room. Mounted against the wall at the upper right corner of the doorway was a functioning television monitor that had yet another security camera image of either me or Subject Alpha along with the word "Interloper" at the bottom. Just to the right of the entrance to the lounge was a large brown leather sofa. Against the wall before the doorway was a large piano and against the wall just beyond the doorway was a working jukebox.

To the left of the entrance to the establishment was the staircase that allowed access to the second floor. The flight of steps had a ninety degree turn approximately halfway to the top floor as they followed the contours of the building. Vines had taken root in the damp restaurant and had started to overtake the surface of the steps. Mounted into the narrow wall that was between the ground level flight of stairs and the entrance to the kitchen area was a Little Sister Vent. The entrance to the kitchen was simply an open doorway and there was a First Aid Station mounted against the right side of the doorframe at about shoulder-height for the average person.

Just like the rest of Siren Alley, ornate wooden panels dominated the majority of the surface area of the restaurant. Time had decayed the panels and now several were peeling and discolored. In addition, the establishment itself had been thoroughly trashed and left with cracked walls and with various types of garbage covering the floor. At one time, the Mermaid Lounge had catered to the artisans and merchants of the city and I had even seen it in its prime multiple times while I had escorted my master around the city. However, this once respectable establishment was now the scene of a nightmare that could have only happened in the ADAM-fueled madness that was Rapture.

A massive hole that was the size of one of the city's security doors was between where I was and the bar table. Given the large amount of wooden splinters that coated the surrounding area, the remnants of smoke clouds in the air, and the damage inflicted upon the roof of the lounge directly above the hole that was significant enough to allow seawater to begin to drip down to floor below, it was immediately clear that very powerful high explosives had been used.

In the center of the hole was the bloodied, mangled body of the Rumbler. The Tin Man was still somehow alive despite its entire left side being so badly torn apart that strings of flesh and tissue were hanging down from the edges of the afflicted area in a way that resembled dripping pieces of red spaghetti and multiple ribs could be seen. Its now useless left arm hung down at its side in an unnatural manner as the limb was only still attached to the rest of the wounded giant by a few remaining strips of the left sleeve of the Protector's diving suit. The left leg was as equally damaged as the left arm, which had rendered the armored titan immobile as its right leg simply could not take the full weight of his heavy frame.

The Mass Production Model was being swarmed by approximately seven Thuggish Splicers that were striking the overwhelmed giant with all manner of crude bludgeoning weapons while being careful to not get directly in front of their victim to avoid its shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. The besieged giant was desperately trying to fight them off with its one functional arm so that it could go rescue the screaming child that sounded as if she was in the restroom at the rear of the bar area. The little girl was clearly being attacked by one or more individuals that were attempting to harvest the sea slug out of her while the rest of them were attacking her protector.

With my only concern being about the survival of the precious angel, I continued sprinting forward and collided with the group of homicidal addicts. The sounds of cracking bones and various cries of surprise and agony filled the air as I forced my way through the crowd, trampling several of them as I did so, before continuing my single-minded journey to the rear of the bar area. Upon nearing the restroom, I let out an enraged guttural roar in an attempt to draw the attention of the individuals inside and also to try to call out to the screaming Little Sister.

The tactic appeared to have worked because I heard a man let out a cry of both surprise and agony before he yelled, "Fucking bitch! Grab her!" There were several sounds of movement inside the small room before I saw the terrified little girl run out. Her gathering tool was gone and she was holding her right arm tightly across her chest to keep her bloodied and torn blue dress from falling off and tripping her as she ran from the men inside the bathroom as fast as her tiny frame could propel itself. Judging by the large amount of blood covering her upper body and how her dress had been torn in a way that would have allowed access to the girl's bare torso, it was safe to assume that the Splicers had been mere seconds away from removing the sea slug from her stomach.

Green tinted ADAM-infused tears were streaking down her blood spattered cheeks and an expression of pure terror was etched on her once innocent face. However, as she saw me running towards her, a glimmer of hope appeared in her glowing yellow eyes and she lifted her left hand out before her to reach out to me as she screamed, "Daddy! It hurts! Make it stop Daddy! Please!"

Upon reaching the frightened Little Sister, I quickly bent down and picked her up as gently as I could with my gloved left hand before standing back up while I placed my new temporary charge on her "throne" on my back. The reality of how disturbingly little margin for error there had been became even more apparent as I had no sooner placed the endangered young angel on my back before a large, well-built, and middle-aged man with greasy short black hair wearing a bunny mask that was modified with a demented smile carved from ear to ear and dressed in bloodied overalls had sprinted out of the bathroom with a well-used meat hook in his right hand and a length of rope in his left hand.

The man had been sprinting so fast and I was so close to the entrance to the bathroom that he did not have time to react to my presence. A loud gasp escaped the would-be child murderer as he collided with my heavily spliced and armored frame and fell backwards to comically land flat on his posterior. I glared down at him with my segmented eye that was giving off a hellish red light while letting out a low, rumbling, demonic-sounding growl for a moment to allow the man to fully grasp the extent of how much he had screwed up by being part of this disgusting assault on a Little Sister. The man's overall physical demeanor morphed from confidence into one of panic and terror as he tried to run past me and make a desperate attempt for the smashed open exit to Siren Alley.

While I let out a deafening guttural roar that shock the decayed restaurant, I grabbed the fleeing denizen by his neck with my left hand and then thrust the whirling razor sharp tip of my heavily modified drill through the center of his back. His blood-choked screams as my drill bored through his torso to appear as it exited out of his chest made me smirk beneath my copper diving helmet.

These vermin were no different than the heartless woman in Fontaine's Department Store. They all thought nothing of putting innocent little girls through the cruelest torture imaginable if there was something in it for them. That woman wanted revenge and the Splicers wanted ADAM but, in the end, they were all the same: perfectly content to severely harm if not kill the most innocent and precious beings on the planet but then they always gave me the same confused look when I turned the tide against them as if they truly expected that nothing would happen to them.

I knew what I was. In truth, I had long since lost count of how many people I had killed. I never felt any regret for anything that I had done to them. However, I would sooner die than harm someone that had not given me a reason to hurt them. I especially would never be able to understand how any human being could actually decide that there was a reason or justification for him or her to harm a child. It is a hardwired instinct to protect the future of the human race but yet I had noted a disturbingly large amount of people that did unspeakable things to children and some even specifically enjoyed doing such things to children. The fact that there was even a need for a monster such as me was a testament to the nature of human beings.

Gripping the man's neck firmly, I ripped my drill free from his body while simultaneously pulling in the opposite direction with my left hand. The denizen's screams were cut short as I essentially ripped his body in half. The lower half collapsed onto the floor like a deck of cards and I thoughtlessly threw the upper section held in my left hand into the jukebox behind me where it landed with a wet popping noise before sliding down the exterior of the now sparking and smoking entertainment device to come to a stop on the floor against its base.

I turned to face the crowd of Splicers around the Tin Man. I was greeted by the sight of them looking back at me with expressions of either fear or anger. Because they had not directly attacked the little girl, I decided to let them be the masters of their own fate. I pointed towards the open exit of the Mermaid Lounge with my left hand and then let out a loud grunt while I gestured for them to leave. Afterwards, I returned to be in the standard combat posture for my kind with both of my arms lifted up before me so that my drill was at the ready and that the bright blue electrical discharges of my Electro Bolt Plasmid were dancing along the contours of my gauntlet-encased left hand.

They were silent for a moment as they looked around at each other. As they did, Subject Alpha and Jennifer made their presence known where they stood on either side of the exit. Three Splicers, two men and one woman, who had clearly been severely injured when I trampled them as I made my way to the bathroom, silently exited the lounge and then disappeared from view. The remaining denizens, a middle-aged man dressed in a tattered business suit, a young woman wearing a dirty blue dress, and two young men clad in what had once been dockworker outfits, hesitated briefly before they made their decision.

The older man was the first as he ran towards me with his section of lead pipe held above his head. The younger two men followed after him before, finally, the woman joined them. I let out a guttural roar as a final warning for them to back off. However, the thought of getting the ADAM inside the child on my back was too much for them and I was left with only one course of action to protect her.

I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from the ported digits of my gloved left hand into the first young man. While he was briefly paralyzed by the high-powered electrical attack, I thrust my drill into the left knee of the older man who was just about to swing his pipe. My strike hit home and, as the former businessman began to collapse onto his crippled joint, I reached down and grabbed him around his neck with my left hand. I effortlessly lifted the confused Splicer up into the air in front of my just in time to intercept the second young man's swing with his crowbar.

The older man cried out in agony as the powerful strike of the crowbar hit him with enough force to drive the blades into his back. The dockworker ripped his bloodied tool out of his fellow denizen while he took a step back in confusion. I then threw the businessman at the other young man, who had recovered from my electrical attack and was once again running towards me. The tactic caught the likely inexperienced fighter off guard and both men collapsed onto the floor in a pile.

By that time, the female Splicer had reached me and I turned just in time to grab onto the shaft of her golf club with my left hand as she swung the club end towards me. Seeing that the golf club's insulated grip had corroded to the point that the woman's hands were in contact with the metal shaft, I willed a blast of Electro Bolt from my clenched fist into the shaft. She screamed as the bolts of genetic electricity traveled from the golf club's shaft into her body.

The second young man moved to swing his crowbar at me just to my left. I released my grip on the club while I revved up my drill and then turned to face my incoming assailant. The Thuggish Splicer threw the entire weight of his body into his swing only to have the tip of my highly modified drill thrust into the center of his chest. His screams of pain briefly filled the air along with the sounds of cracking bone and ripping tissue as the weaponized mining tool had little difficulty in boring through his chest to exit out of his back while I was showered in his blood. I then powered down my drill and forcibly pulled it back out of him.

The remaining two men were still getting to their feet so I turned my attention back to the woman. By that time, the female Splicer had recovered and tried to swing her golf club at me once again though with noticeably less force as her body was still struggling to shake off the trauma of being electrocuted by my Electro Bolt Plasmid. Though addiction to ADAM left an individual somewhat desensitized, extreme sleep deprivation made an individual far less tolerant of pain than a healthy person.

The slow swing gave me enough time to ball my left hand into a fist and then deliver a bone-shattering punch into the center of her ADAM-disfigured face. The force of the blow sent the woman staggering backwards for a few steps until she lost her footing and fell onto the ground on her back. Before she could recover, I moved to stand directly in front of her. As she looked up at me with an expression of both physical and spiritual exhaustion, I lifted my right foot and then stomped down on the center of the front of her skull. The result resembled a ripe melon that had been smashed with a sledgehammer.

Ignoring the bits of skull fragments and brain tissue sticking to the exterior of my right diving boot, I turned my attention back to the last two Splicers. The younger man had gotten to his feet and was rushing towards me with his monkey wrench held above his head by his right hand. I revved up my drill and then rushed forward. My Drill Dash succeeded in sending him stumbling backwards. Before he could fall backwards, I reached out with my left hand, took hold of his right shoulder, and then thrust my diving helmet-clad head into the center of his forehead.

The brutal power of the impact split open his skull, causing him to let out an agonized cry while blood began to pour out of the wound. I released my grip on his shoulder and the man began to sway back and forth as he struggled to remain conscious. Behind him, I saw the last remaining Splicer get to his feet and then begin to limp into the side room through the open doorway between the piano and the jukebox. The swaying denizen before me began to lift his wrench to swing it at me. However, I simply thrust my drill into the right side of his forehead. The already weakened skull was no match for the strike and the all but decapitated corpse fell backwards onto the floor.

I chased after the fleeing man and, upon entering the side room, I found him facing me from the other end of the small space. Along the wall to our right, there were several windows that allowed a view of the seafloor just beyond Siren Alley. The blue light from the windows illuminated the man's horribly twisted and exhaustion-filled face. However, a glimmer of happiness was in his eyes as if knowing that this was the end of the line for him had given the fallen businessman the first genuine positive feeling that he had felt in a very long time.

As I moved towards him, the Splicer lifted the section of pipe over his right shoulder so that his left hand was free. He then gestured for me to give him a moment. I was going to ignore his request until I saw him retrieve a cigar from a pocket on the inside of his coat. Realizing what the Splicer had asked for, I stopped and let him lit his cigar with what was likely the last amount of fluid in his gold-plated flip lighter. After lighting his last cigar, he tossed the spent lighter onto the garbage covered floor and then took a few drags from it.

Then, he held it long-ways out in front of him and nodded at it before returning it to his mouth. Afterwards, he looked at me for a moment and then smiled as he shrugged. The broken resident of Rapture held his cigar with his mouth as he began to hold the section of lead pipe as he had been before. The Splicer let out a long sigh and then began to move towards me with the pipe raised above his head. I revved up my drill and then thrust it into his chest. He never even attempted to swing the pipe.

After dealing with the Splicer, I exited the side room and then made my way over the bathroom. As I did, I grunted to Alpha and Jennifer with my Alpha Series voice, "Her dress is torn and falling off. I recommend thinking of a way to repair or replace it." Not waiting for their response, I turned and entered the bathroom.

The ornate wooden panels were replaced by square white porcelain tiles as the path turned to the left immediately upon entering the restroom. I turned the corner to find a tiny room that was only large enough to fit three stalls along the right wall and four sinks along the left wall. On the damp, urine-soaked floor in the middle of the room was a large pool of blood that had pieces of the Little Sister's dress in it. The numerous smear lines and tiny hand and footprints all around the pool indicated that the child had struggled with all the strength that her small body possessed to try to defend herself against her enormous attackers. The set of tiny bloody footprints that went to the exit of the restroom silently told the tale of the child's escape after I had called out to her from the bar area.

Movement in the last stall drew my attention to a middle-aged man with short brown hair wearing a blood-stained lab coat that was the standard style of the various medical and scientific professions in Rapture and had likely once been white but was now light brown, stained green rubber gloves and boots, and a dirty surgical mask. He was turning to face a different direction almost every second as if he was desperately looking for something while he was clutching the area around his left eye with his left hand. In his right hand, he was holding a surgical scalpel that was still dripping noticeably green-tinted blood onto the restroom floor. He must have been crouching in the back corner of the far stall because I had not seen him when I had first entered the restroom.

The Splicer's erratic behavior was, for once, justified because the Little Sister's Gathering Tool was sticking out of his left eye. It appeared that the needle had been driven deep enough into the socket that it had lodged itself into the area of the skull at the rear of it because I watched him attempt to pull it out but the tool did not even budge. Considering that it was unlikely that he had done it to himself, it was clear what happened.

When I had called out from outside, the two men were distracted long enough for the Little Sister to grab her Gathering Tool and then thrust its needle into the one that had the scalpel inside her opened abdomen along with likely his other hand and maybe even the other man's hands to forcibly hold open the gaping hole as her body's almost immortal-level regenerative ability tried to heal it back shut. Whether or not she had been aiming for his eye or was just luck in the heat of the moment, I did not know. However, either by the child's own planning or by some kind of miracle, the needle had pierced through the man's eye and the resulting confusion had given her enough time to get to her feet and run as fast as she could out of the restroom.

I began to physically shake with rage and I felt as if I was going to vomit as the most likely series of events began to play in my mind. The beautiful, innocent little girl riding on my back had been walking with her Protector without a single worry in the world one moment and then, the next, a group of Splicers had all but blown apart her guardian with some kind of powerful high explosive. She had then been taken into the restroom and held down on the urine-soaked and garbage-covered floor by two filthy ADAM-addicted men. Still confused about what was happening but also terrified, she desperately tried to get them off of her but she was powerless to stop them from tearing open her dress.

The horrifying truth of how endangered her life was became painfully clear when they then began cutting her lower abdomen wide open with an unsanitary scalpel that had been god's know where while their dirty hands that probably not been washed in ten years were literally inside of her to keep the hole open. She was completely aware of what was happening to her throughout the entire ordeal because her Little Sister Conditioning forced her mind to confront reality whenever she felt threatened or was gathering ADAM from a corpse. I could not even begin to imagine what had been going through her mind as she was seconds away from dying as two men were for all intents and purposes gutting her alive while she was fully conscious.

However, by pure dumb luck, we had been walking right outside the building and had heard her cries for help. Not even knowing what was happening or if there was still time to save her, I had burst through the entrance and rushed to where I heard her screaming. Out of desperation, I called out to her as I was running and that distracted the men on top of her long enough for her to grab her tool. Before they realized what she had done, she stuck the tip of the sharp needle into the one wielding the scalpel. In the resulting confusion, she was able to get out of the bathroom and to the safety of my protection just in time before the "muscle" had caught up to her.

The deranged child butcher finally seemed to become aware of my presence because he turn to face in my direction. However, just as every other resident in this godforsaken city was, he was so mentally destroyed by ADAM that he was completely ignorant of the reality of his surroundings and probably did not even remember what he had been doing mere moments ago. Apparently believing that I was his nurse and that the Little Sister, who I could sense was now glaring at him with a level of hatred that no child should ever be capable of feeling, was here to be operated upon, the former doctor ordered me, "Nurse! Help me restrain this patient."

Completely snapping, I walked up and stood in front of the twisted, broken shell that had once been a human being, reached up with my gloved left hand, took a firm grip on the back of the Gathering Tool, and then began to twist and pry. The butcher began to scream in pure agony and misery while he collapsed onto his knees. I let out a loud laugh in a series of grunts as he uselessly clawed and stabbed my left hand. I made it last as long as possible to ensure that the Splicer felt powerless to stop me from removing something that was very precious from his body no matter how hard he fought back. Then, I removed the Gathering Tool out of his eye socket with a single, slow, smooth pull so that he could perfectly feel every last inch.

I found the result somewhat amusing because it reminded me of a headless chicken and how the decapitated birds were known for sometimes running around aimlessly and bumping into things. While he ran into the sides of the bathroom, he screamed at an incredibly high pitch that I had not been aware that any testosterone-possessing human male had the physical ability to reach. As I watched the denizen's melodramatic response to having one of his eyes forcibly removed from its socket, I could not help but note that the seven or eight year old girl had handled her abdomen being cut open far better than this grown man was taking simply losing an eye.

After removing the pieces of the Splicer's eye, I handed her "toy" back to the Little Sister. As she took it from me, the little angel said with a very polite tone, "Thank you, Papa Delta."

I grunted in response, "No problem, sweetie."

At that moment, the screaming Splicer ran directly in front of me. I reached out with my left hand and caught him by his neck. I turned to face the toilets and saw that the one in the middle stall was completely filled with dissolved human waste. I pressed the Splicer against the wall in front of me so that his back was facing me, lifted my drill up, and then began to drag the tip along the screaming man's spinal column until I found the right spot. When I found it, I pressed the razor-sharp tip into the spot. As my drill severed the spinal column without killing him, the Splicer went limp save for a few twitches.

Removing my drill and holding the paralyzed individual by the back of his head, I turned and then walked into the middle stall. I placed the helpless man into a kneeling position in front of the toilet and then began to lower his head down at a purposely slow rate so that the would-be Little Sister butcher had enough time to study what was inside the toilet bowl before his head was submerged into it. After his head was sufficiently inside the bowl I ripped two of the sinks out of the wall and then used one to anchor his legs and the other to keep weight on top of the drowning Splicer's head. After all, it was simply good manners and etiquette to ensure that the human waste stayed inside the toilet bowl while one was answering Nature's Call.

Even though air bubbles continued to slowly trickle up to the surface of the contents of the bowl, I knew that my job was done. I addressed Topside, "_My part is done, Old Man. Be careful with her, please. I just derived a theory about what happened…she might have endured more than just an attempt on her slug. They only had seconds alone with her but we both know what can happen to children in even a short amount of time._"

As we switched control over our body with our segmented glass eye and axillary lights reflecting the swap, I assured him, "_It is alright, Delta. She is still alive because of you. You saved her…okay? I'll protect her…I promise._"

The normally indifferent killer was clearly still rattled by how close of a call it had been. I could not blame him thought because I had also expected that we were going to find the little girl's ripped open corpse. I had seen my fair share of dead children on the surface during the war and, on a few horrific instances in Rapture, murdered Little Sisters that had had unspeakable things done to them before they had finally killed her. The one good thing about not needing sleep as a Big Daddy was that I would never have to see the sight of the destroyed little girls again in my nightmares. To have been so certain that you were going to find her corpse only to see her running towards you screaming for help and to then stop her pursuer, literally knocking him flat on his ass, just after you had placed her on your back was what every Big Daddy Protector fantasized about but, of course, life simply did not work that way.

The rescue that Delta had just pulled off was as close to a fairytale as Rapture was capable of allowing. Had we been any further away from the Mermaid Lounge when the pair had been ambushed or had Subject Delta done anything differently, the little girl currently humming a happy tune as she stood on the special mount on my back would certainly be dead right now and Delta would have certainly redecorated this establishment with the Splicers' guts if he had not destroyed it in the process of getting justice for the slain child.

Clearly wanting to be left alone for now, Delta simply requested, "_Protect that little girl, Old Man._"

His presence left my mind before I could respond. I studied the drowning former doctor in the stall for a moment before turning around and walking over to the only intact sink. The sea water that come out of the spout was filled with build-up from inside the pipes but it was better than the alternative of continuing on with human waste on my left hand. It did not bother me because I was accustomed to being covered with all manner of foulness but I was handling children. After sufficiently washing off my gauntlet-encased hand, I turned and began to exit the restroom.

As I walked, I asked my new companion, "Are you alright, sweetie?"

The precious little girl replied with her edged voice, "Bad men touched me and ruined my dress but I am okay thanks you, Daddy."

I exited the bathroom to see Subject Alpha and Jennifer standing around the bar counter. I began to make my over to them. Beyond them, I saw that the Rumbler had succumbed to the horrific injuries that he had suffered at the hands of the Splicers. His lighter, less armored suit made his model far more susceptible to injury than any Protector Model that I had ever seen. Even the Alpha Series had more armor than they did. In addition, while my brethren were less armored than the Bouncer and Rosie Mass Production Models, we were notoriously difficult to ambush. Like all the Mass Production Models, the Rumbler was fairly passive even while guarding a Little Sister. The lumbering giant probably never even saw it coming.

As I made my way over to them, I remarked, "You are a very brave girl."

The Little One giggled before she said, "Thank you. It really hurt and I was scared but I knew that you would save me Papa Delta."

By then, I had reached the bar counter. I retrieved my charge from my back and slowly placed her on the edge of the counter so that her legs were dangling over the side. She looked at my two armored allies and smiled brightly while waving happily at both of them. I marveled that she was in high spirits despite what happened to her. Her disheveled brown hair that no longer had a bow tying it back up in a ponytail and badly torn, blood-soaked dress that revealed her pale upper body in several spots was a testament to the brutality of the attempt on her life.

I felt a brief wave of anger as I saw that, despite her body's miraculous healing ability, there were now several long, thick, and jagged scars that formed a sideways "H" starting at the middle of her torso and ending just above her waist. The scars clearly were not from the surgery to implant the slug and would be a highly visible reminder of her ordeal. Wherever she went for the rest of her life, this girl would be followed by the shadow of Rapture. However, she was still alive and that was all that mattered.

Confused, I asked, "How did you know that I was nearby?"

The cheerful child giggled as if I had just told her a joke and then replied in a way that was clearly Eleanor speaking, "She did not know that you were, Father. I have been telling them stories about you for years and now they know that you are here. It is the happiest and most hopeful that I have seen them since they arrived in Rapture. Every fairytale has a brave knight that saves the princess when she is in danger. That is what you are to them, Father."

I replied, "I'm not a knight. I'm the axe-wielding woodsman that breaks down the front door and brutally bisects the wolf after it eats Red Riding Hood and her grandmother. I save by violently killing those that prey upon those that cannot defend themselves."

Eleanor remarked, "A dark hero for a dark fairytale…but a hero nonetheless. The girls don't care, Johnny. They idolize you. You are the hero that the children need to believe in right now."

I let out a sigh in the form of a low grunt. Then, I asked my companions, "So, any ideas about her dress?"

Alpha raised his left hand to reveal a roll of familiar silver tape that was meant for use in ductwork. In retrospect, I should have expected my brother to suggest the use of duct tape to fix the little girl's torn dress. I respected my close friend and his ability to fix and build almost anything but, because she was a human child and not some inanimate object, there was no way that was going to happen as long as I had something to say about it. After I stared at him silently for a moment, he simply gave a slight shrug before lowering his hand back down to his side.

Jennifer suggested, "It is beyond fixing and a liability. So, just let her go without it. What is wrong with her being nude?"

I let out a loud grunt while briefly placing the palm of my left hand over the forehead of my copper face in a facepalm. I asked rhetorically, "A nude little girl being paraded around the Red Light District of a war-torn city filled with homicidal drug addicts…what could possibly go wrong?"

Finally, the Eleanor-controlled Little Sister suggested, "The orphanage is on the other side of the security door that we are about to go through. There are probably some dresses left inside it somewhere. I can hold this one up for now. If we hurry to the orphanage and get another one, I do not mind holding it up for now."

I replied, "Out of the question. You need to be able to grab onto the handles on the back of my helmet." After thinking briefly, I looked at Alpha and instructed him, "Tape it just enough so that it can stay on without her holding it but not hurt her when we take it off when we get a new dress at the orphanage."

Moving towards our new companion with the tape in his left hand, he replied, "Yes, sir."

After securing the dress around the collar and making an "X"-pattern across the front and back of the top section with the robust, multi-purpose tape, my brother was able to make the torn dress stay in place. However, the improvised repair would not hold up to any punishment. We would have to make the Little Sisters Orphanage our first stop after we unlocked the security door.

After returning the little girl to my back, we exited the Mermaid Bar and made our way back to the Axillary Pumping station. As I entered the station, my helmet's built-in radio activated. Sinclair addressed me, "Ah, now through this Junction is the rest of the Alley, includin' the very pumpin' station we're after. Father Simon has been recruitin' Holy Rollers down there for Lamb."

Nothing was out of place inside the station. We ascended the metal stairs up the locked watertight door on the second floor. After fighting through The Pink Pearl and with what had just happened at the Mermaid Bar, it seemed as if entering the code and unlocking the door was going to be the easiest part of the journey to the Pumping Station. I entered the code and the door began to open with a loud mechanical grinding noise. For once, something was actually working in this dying city.

However, the door had only made it about a quarter of the way open before there was a loud banging noise and several electrical arcs shot out of the transformer on the other side of the metal railing. All the power in Siren Alley failed leaving us in pitch darkness. Eerie silence filled the district until seconds later when a deafening air raid siren began to pipe through the intercom.

After a moment, Sofia Lamb addressed all of Siren Alley through the decayed announcement system, "Father Simon Wales, can you hear me?"

The built-in headlamps of Subject Alpha's and my diving helmet activated and provided adequate illumination of the confined space of the station. Jennifer moved to stand at the top of the left staircase and Alpha moved to stand at the top of the right staircase.

Meanwhile, the manipulative psychiatrist continued, "I have trapped a dead man at your doorstep. And Simon…Daniel is dead. Murdered. Can you hear him crying out for justice?"

The call to arms had the desired effect as what sounded like a full blown riot began to descend upon our location from Simon's side of the locked door. As we prepared to fight for our lives against the horde of incoming Splicers, Sinclair addressed me, "They've cut the power on ya…you're stuck 'til the back-ups kick in. I'll help you hold 'em back! Check the pneumo!"

I turned and ripped the top of the delivery tube off with my gloved left hand. Seconds later, a full cartridge of Trap Rivets, two Mini Turrets, and a full container of fuel for my drill shot out of the opening. I tossed the cartridge and turrets to Subject Alpha and then quickly topped off my drill's fuel tank. While this had been going on, it sounded as if the Splicers were going to beat down the locked door. Luckily, they could not crawl under it or lift it and it was designed to withstand a tremendous amount of physical force.

My brother set up a line of Trap Rivets on the edge of the top step of the right staircase and then retreated a few steps away. As he was placing the two turrets on the ground in front of him, the intercom inside the station activated and Simon himself addressed me, "Know this, Beast…Daniel's body may grow cold, but his spirit rests with the child of the Lamb. You shall roast and blacken in the pit, and it will be a grieving brother sends you there…"

Seconds after his delusional threat, the sounds of multiple Splicers entering the station through the ventilation network above us filled the air. I let out an enraged guttural roar and revved up my drill in response to the crazed laughter and derogatory remarks about the Little Sister under my protection. The vent covers in the ceiling of the station fell to the ground and the first wave of Spider Splicers dropped into the room. Hoping that Simon had sent enough cannon fodder for me to vent my anger about what had been done to the little girl on my back, I began to thrust my drill into the nearest Splicer.


End file.
